Memoirs of a Crazy
by europ92
Summary: It all just started out as an innocent crush. Some random infatuation I got in eighth grade. Then it turned into a free-fall - one-sided of course - which became an obsession. Kim/Jared. Pre-Eclipse. R&R.
1. Pretending to Act Normal

**Okay, I swore to myself that I wouldn't put this up till I finished writing the story. As you can see, that didn't happen. I'm just too excited...the curses of no self-restraint. This is just something I whipped up one day when I thought about Kim and her crush on Jared. I felt she needed more of a life. Enough said. Hint: Italics are what Kim writes in her journal.**

**Read&Review. I want to know what you guys think :D**

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Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner...*sniffle*

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter One:

_**-------------------------------------XXXXX-------------------------------------**_

_**kIM'S jOURNAL**_

_**dO nOT oPEN oR dANGEROUS cREATURES wILL cOME aT yOU iN tHE nIGHT.  
eNTER aT yOUR oWN pERIL.**_

_**-------------------------------------XXXXX-------------------------------------**_

_**tEN rEASONS wHY i lOVE jARED:**_

_**10. He waved to me the other day at the mall (ok, fine. It was to a girl behind me. But still, it has to count for something)**_

_**9. He is so smart, even when he's not trying to be**_

_**8. He's outgoing and talkative (my opposite)**_

_**7. He will say whatever is on his mind (assembly last year)**_

_**6. He has a deep, to die for voice…**_

_**5. His dreamy smile**_

_**4. His sense of humor**_

_**3. His dark chocolate eyes**_

_**2. He just makes my heart want to melt…**_

_**1. He is tall, dark, and handsome. My ultimate love.**_

_And we're going to get married one day. He just doesn't know it yet. _

Okay, probably not. But still a girl can hope, right? I looked down at the crisp, new notebook and sighed. I must be really desperate to waste trees for him. But he was so worth it. I needed some sort of outlet to express my feelings.

In my defense, I didn't used to be this bad. It all just started out as an innocent crush. Some random infatuation I got in eighth grade.

Then it turned into a free-fall (one-sided of course).

Which became an obsession.

I'm a hopeless case. I re-read the freshly inked pages. Were there any other reasons why I liked him? Probably. I loved everything about the guy I'd barely said two words to. Jared was incredible. I scribbled some more notes down about his wonderful stature. Great, now I feel like a little girl writing in her diary. Except I'm sixteen years old and writing in a composition book I'd filched out of the supply closet in dad's office. Okay, maybe not filched, but close enough.

It's not like they would ever run out of anything. They had enough highlighters for me when I was a kid playing "office."

I began again.

_Jared doesn't even know I'm alive actually. He's a junior, I'm a sophomore. He's a jock, I'm a nobody. He's cute, I'm me. I thought I was going to devote this whole journal to him, but I need to at least look like I have a life. *insert laugh*_

_

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**Wednesday**

_Calendar dates are stupid, and I never know what they are anyways, so I'm just keeping them out of this. _

_Third day of school---kill me. I miss summer. (And no, I'm not emo, goth etc. just normal, average joe Kim…I think)_

_Chemistry was such a bore today. Why do they even teach the subject? It's not like anyone from La Push is going to be a mad scientist or anything. I'll be surprised if anyone even gets to college. Mom started nagging to me about that the other day. She nags to me about everything __actually. It's either 'Clean your room, Kim' or go outside and exercise, or quit watching T.V., or go get some friends, you're anti-socialism is killing my rep (just kidding), or anything along those lines. _

_It's always something._

_I'm always doing something wrong. Why can't she just read those "teen moodiness" sites? If she did, she might realize I don't want or feel like doing any of those things. Granted, some of the "help" sections of those sites are complete bogus. I don't say "I'm going to bed," as a cover-up for sneaking out to have a drink with my friends. At least not yet. _

_See? The fact that I've looked at those sites tells all. I have way too much spare time. _

_Spare time that I can spend dreaming about Jared._

_Maybe she has a point._

_Paul came back (or at least that's what Sammie said). I haven't actually seen him yet. He was the only one in our class who had a summer break with heat. No, I don't love him too. When you have a school with less than 100 people in it, you notice everything. This is why I'm keeping my fan girl self in the closet. Sadly, I can't make buttons of Jared's yearbook pictures and attach them to my reliable, tan messenger bag. Though it's a great idea…._

_Sammie's calling, so I'm signing off. Or leaving. I don't know how to end this..._

_

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**Friday**

_I saw Paul yesterday. He's grown, and completely ripped. Texan air must've done him good. Sammie's falling all over herself for him (same with all the other girls). Not me. I already have a lover. Oh, I forgot to tell you journal---if you haven't figured it out already--- Sammie's my BFF._

I must be insane. I'm implying that an inanimate object has feelings. Anyway…

_My mom hates her because she accidentally bumped into mother dearest's priceless vase in the third grade. Sammie was showing me her new moves, and sort of got carried away. Honestly, I think my mom needs to get over it. I mean we were eight for crying out loud. But then again, she's one for grudges. _

_I'm now writing in my English II class, pretending to be dutifully taking notes like everyone else. Haha, I have no idea what Ms. Carrot (actually Carote I think) is saying._

"Kim."

My head jerked up, and I tried not to act surprised. Too late.

"What's the answer?" Ms. Carote asked. I wildly looked behind her head at the board to figure out what we were supposed to be discussing. Some of the popular girls started snickering. For once, the genius Kim is caught.

"The answer is uh…well, you see, it's because…" I stammered, trying to think of something quickly. Were we talking about grammar or the chapters we had to read the other night?

"Gerunds. What's an example?" She helped me out gently. Maybe I should stop making fun of her name…

I breathed in and smiled, "Reading is easy."

A few guys joined in with the mockery that was coming from the back. Great, now I'd be the laughing stock of the whole period for the next semester. Why were we even talking about gerunds anyways? We all covered this last year. It was probably because those dopes "forgot" about them and were trying to hold up class. Typical. It was a wide-known fact that Ms. Carote was the easiest teacher to divert due to her tendency to over-talk herself.

I let my hair fall down to hide my face and stared at my desk for the remainder of class.

* * *

_**Later**_

_Life sucks, and then we die. My new motto. _

_Sammie tried talking me into going to the bonfire tonight, but I didn't want to. It's just an excuse for everyone to get as drunk and high as possible with the Forks kids. I'm now lying in my bed dreaming about all the ways I can get Jared's attention._

_The bend and snap? The homework excuse? Studying group? _

_What's that tapping noise?_

I put down my ballpoint pen and warily inched forward to the dark shadow filling up my bedroom window.

It was Sammie. She was glammed up for a night on the beach, and seemed to be holding a tote bag towards me. No. I was not going. She couldn't make me. I…

"You look great, Kimmy!" How did I get into this? Right, peer pressure. I glanced at the mirror and shuddered. My wispy black hair was all frizzy and my russet skin looked as pale as a vampire's. No way was I going to go to First Beach like this.

"Liar, let's just go and get this over with." I said, trying to keep the grimace out of my voice. Sammie noticed as always, and just rolled her eyes.

"You act like you're a martyr."

"I am. You put heels on me, that's all the proof I need." She thought my pain was amusing apparently. The one thing I couldn't stand was wearing anything with height.

"You could just take them off," Sammie pointed out. Oh, I thought I would hurt her feelings if I did. Guess not. I quickly traded the evil shoes for flats and we were off. My parents were on a date night, so I wouldn't have any "you're grounded" problems. Then again, it would be a pleasant change…

Jared was there.

My breathing automatically accelerated as we stepped onto the rocky sand. This could be the night. I might be able to finally stutter some words to him. Sammie gave me a knowing look and went to grab us some drinks. I stood like an idiot. Now what was I supposed to do?

It didn't matter. My world stopped when a girl pranced over to him and gave my Jared a huge kiss on the cheek. I squinted to see who it was. Annie was now his new trophy. Why couldn't it be Jess or Becca, the usual one-weekers? Why was fate being so cruel?

I couldn't even bring myself to berate the girl or even curse her name. Annie wasn't snobby, or mean. I had nothing against her---she had never done anything to me. I even remembered that she helped me pick up my books when some jerk "accidentally" shoved me last year.

Jared shouldn't be with her. He didn't deserve her. She was too good for him. He deserved me and only me. Nothing but the best in my opinion.

My very, humble opinion, mind you.

"Here," Sammie passed me an opened Coke can. Without even thinking, I took a huge sip, trying to drown my love woes out.

Bad idea. The liquid was too sweet, and my nose was burning with the smell of rubbing alcohol. What the heck?

"What is it?" I asked, trying to get the taste out of my mouth. She shrugged and took another sip, totally in her "I'm so cool cause I'm trying to be bad" mode.

"It's rum in coke, Kim," she smirked.

_And that's how my night went, journal. I quickly went to find a water bottle, trying to ignore the fact that I had officially taken my first sip of alcohol ever---unsupervised. Sure, there was the occasional wine during the holidays, but that didn't count. Am I total loser? _

_I can't tell anymore._

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**Excuse the spelling mistakes, I beta myself...haha. This will be a very slow moving story, since now I'm juggling it and BTBW (my other werewolf story..check it out :D ) I do have some more written, so if there are any responses, it will motivate me to post. Oh, and Jared has not turned....yet. **

**....review?.....**


	2. Life's Unfair

**Okay, had this one pre-written already, so the update came faster. Yay! Thank you so much for all those who reviewed! And if you haven't already, please do :D I love feedback like any other author.**

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Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner..*sniffle*

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Two:

_**Monday**_

_First period. Do you want me to tell you what's new at this school? Nothing. Oh well, at least I've survived the first week. Annie and Jared were holding hands in the hallway this morning before classes. Any hope I had for us to be together is now nonexistent. I found out they hooked up over break. Apparently, they were both working at Thriftway for some extra cash this summer._

_Why didn't I think of that? Instead, I stayed at home like a pathetic person, mourning the fact that my workaholic parents didn't believe in vacations. I could be with Jared right now. He wouldn't be loving Annie, but me._

_Just the thought incenses me._

_Mrs. Jared._

_Kim and Jared for life._

_I love Jared._

I mindlessly continued my doodling all throughout my periods till lunch. Everything right now was just review, so I wasn't all that worried on what I was missing.

"Health next." Sammie said, plopping herself into the seat next to me. I tried cracking a smile; it was the only class I had with my best friend. And it was mixed with sophomores, juniors, and seniors. Sammie never ceased talking about that little fact. She was going to try and flirt with the angry Paul today. It was her own personal goal that she was determined to succeed.

I wish I could do that. Instead, I daydream about what I'm going to do. It's all thought and no action for me. It's not like I would be able to "flirt" anyway. I was surrounded by empty spots in the second row thanks to alphabetical order. Nobody had a last name like mine; it was just too….original?

We both ate slowly, talking about random things---everything but Friday night. I think she felt bad, but you can never be sure with Sammie.

_In Health class now, joy. Mrs. Taylor said we have a quiz tomorrow over how to eat healthy. Honestly, why is this class required? It's so stupid. Can't we just lea-…_

Oh my gosh. Breathe, Kim. Breathe.

"Nice of you to join us, Jared." Mrs. Taylor winked, gesturing him to the first seat. The seat in front of me.

I had to clench my hands together in order to get my blood pumping.

"Actually, Allie, I think I'm gonna sit next to good ole Paul. But thanks anyway." He gave her a huge dazzling smile and sauntered to the back near my best friend.

Did I mention his voice is heavenly? And that he can handle a teacher like Mrs. Taylor with ease? It almost made the rejection worthwhile. Almost. I caught a glance of Sammie. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

Why did everything have to go her way?

I knew it was too good to be true that Jared got transferred to this class. He was the third one today, actually. I slumped in my seat and began messing with my pen. Everyone behind me was socializing and talking. Acting normal.

I was stuck alone, not being noticed or included.

This is what invisibility feels like.

I must be really lame if Jared didn't want to sit next to me. I mean, why Paul? Jared hates Paul. The two were friends back in their kid years, but after a few disagreements, they called it quits. Violently. I turned my head slightly, but couldn't see anything due to a big head.

Guess I'll have to make Sammie tell me.

* * *

_Sorry journal, just had a panic attack in the form of Jared. He came and went. As usual. Sometimes I wish I were cool and all, but usually, those people end up in the loony bin. Reasons why Jared wants to sit next to Paul._

_1) Fight?_

_2) Make up? (Highly unlikely)_

3) ……_to discuss me and my love views….._

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"What are you writing in?" Sammie's voice came from behind me. I quickly closed my composition book, trying to will my cheeks not to flush. She walked and sat in the seat in front of me. Her face was as pale as a sheet.

"You okay?" I said, watching her hazel eyes. They were like an open book. If you can't read someone's facial expressions, then try their eyes. I highly recommend it.

Sammie bit her lip. "It was really weird," she started. "Jared came back and started harassing Paul about money. Paul owed him, apparently. I guess that's pretty much the norm." She hesitated on purpose, making me have to signal for her to continue. Anything about Jared was vital information.

"Then Paul began to shake, and I swear, I thought he was going to burst. I don't know, I just wanted to get away from them both. You know, keep you company up here."

Wow, I'm happy I was last resort. It didn't matter though. Was Jared okay? Did Paul hurt him? Did he get his money?

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_**Tuesday**_

_My parents have been praising the ground Sam Uley walks on. Their rants about him have been the conversation talk of our dinner table for the past two evenings. Why? Because he broke up a fight between Jared and Paul in the lot near First Beach. He was their savior now, a person that would finally keep all us teens in check. I knew I should be grateful to him. I mean, an unscathed Jared is better than a bruised one, right? But my parents are paying more attention to him than me._

_Bratty, I know. But journal, hear me out. My parents are only home for dinner, if that. Resting their heads is not an option in their careers. The clacking of a keyboard is not what a girl wants to fall asleep to every night. Sometimes, I wonder how they do it. Sometimes, I wonder why they even had me._

_I was probably a mistake._

_Why am I even writing about this? The journal's supposed to be about Jared and my undying love for him! Gah, I would white it out, but I ran out of that __three pages ago. I had to, or else you would have had to read this:_

_Adjectives for Jared. Amazing, Adventurous, Wonderful, Charming, Loving, Handsome, Brilliant, Smart, Creative, Happy…_

_(I can go on…I even got into the Z's)_

_I swear, if anyone ever reads this, I will dig myself a grave. Great, my hands are starting to cramp. I'm going to leave it at this and go look at the yearbooks again. I can drool at Jared all I want in peace…_

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_**Thursday**_

_Blaire is back for good. My life is doomed, journal. She's perfectly evil; emphasis on the_ e. _FYI, Blaire's my younger sister who my parents sent away to a boarding school for her "special talents." Honestly, she has none, or at least no more than me. Probably that's why she got sent back._

_I have no talents._

_Sure, I'm smart-ish and maybe a little good in whistling (does that count?). Those are more characteristics than anything though. I just found out that they're putting her in the room next to mine. Thank god. I thought we were going to have to share for a second._

_Great, now I'm going to have to find another place to hide you…_

_Jared was frustrated today. He kept breaking his pencils all throughout class and couldn't answer one of Mrs. Taylor's questions correctly. And he's a jock, jeez. He should know why he does football or any other one of those stupid sports teams._

_I know I'm not going to marry an Einstein, but still._

_Paul and him aren't talking. I bet it's because his pride's ruined. I heard Paul nearly beat him in their little match. Poor Jared, I almost stalked him to his house just to make sure he was safe. But I figured that might be a little too freaky._

_Sammie told me to get a life and a new "boyfriend." Ugh, she doesn't get it---none of them do. Jared is not a jerk and player. He is just an over-sensitive guy who doesn't like being bossed around, and is not afraid of showing it. Though, I do mourn Embry Call. He nearly broke an arm when he smart-mouthed Jared in the lunch line yesterday._

_Why do men always try to show their dominance and power? It's stupid. We know, they know, it's all good. No need for extra display._

"Hey big sis," Blaire sneered from my doorway. I flipped my journal closed and promptly sat on it. Wow, Kim, way to arouse suspicion. She flipped her long black hair and entered my room uninvited.

"So, mom and dad are gone Saturday and I want to host an "I'm back" party. You can't be here."

Brat. Like I would _ever_ agree to that. Although, she's a smart freshman. I wondered what the offer would be for my disappearance. If it was good, I might just take it.

"What's in it for me?" I said, making sure my voice was level and strong. Blaire knew I was a major push-over at times and could almost get away with anything when she came home for the holidays. My little sister thought for a moment.

"I won't snoop and try to figure out what you're hiding." She said it almost as question, doubtful of her restraining abilities.

"You better think up something else or I'll alert the parents," I mocked, smiling maliciously. I probably looked like someone had done a face implant on me. Kim=person unable to "act" evil.

"Chores?" Yeah right, like I'd fall for _that_ one again. I shook my head, causing the little monster to stomp her foot.

"A free sneak-out?" She really needed to be a little more observant. Since when did I need to sneak-out? Our parents could care less half the time thanks to their time-consuming work. Then again, if they found out something like that (put in the worst terms possible), it would be some major punishment.

Oh well. "Guess I'm invited to a party," I said. For the first time in years I had won.

_Tally: Kim (1) Blaire (0)_

_Yes, journal, it was a small victory. A perfect end to a disastrous, homework-filled evening. I wonder what Sammie has up her sleeve for us to do tomorrow…_

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_**Friday**_

_It's snowing. And it's the end of August. Welcome to our state. Just kidding. We've had freaky weather before, but it _never _snows in August. The teachers have been on the internet all day staring in bewilderment at their screens . However, our school, of course, refuses to give us the day off. It's so unfair. The elders said we have to "nurture our brains during these hard times" as their excuse for our misery._

_Even when the heating is broken?_

_It's official, we're all going to freeze to death._

_At least I haven't done much brain work today._

_**pRISON sCHEDULE (eXCEPT fOR hEALTH, mY nIRVANA)**_

_Period 1: English II---Ms. Carote was absent today due to the flu (she's not used to this kind of weather due to growing up on a southern rez)  
Period 2: Geometry---We did a random geometry game with Mr. Thomas  
Period 3: Chemistry---Class did an experiment with our only Bunsen burner, meaning no thinking for me *grin*  
Period 4: Gym---don't ask…basketball accident, ice pack currently on head  
Period 5: Free---where I am right now writing this all down and wasting perfectly good time doodling hearts with Jared and I's name in them_

_After lunch, I have health with_ him_, history with Mr. Boyd, and a drawing class where I am clearly inept in everything._

_Kim hearts Jared  
Jared+Kim=amour  
…..love starts with us….._

_I am now pasting our yearbook pictures together. They will go right on these x's._

_**XXXXXXXX**_

I smiled and glanced at my new creation. Now, I would be able to flip to this page whenever I wanted too. Staring at Jared's dreamy face, I sighed. He was so perfect. Why couldn't he love me?

Oh right, cause I'm invisible. And he's dating Annie.

_Journal, I think something's wrong. I'm comparing his yearbook pics and I think he's on steroids. Or some growth enhancer. He looks so different. Why didn't I notice before? Paul's changed too._

_Reasons why: they're both opposing captains in our small La Push sport programs, trying to be show-offs to even more girls, hard job during the summer that kept them toned, peer pressure, college money for scholarship (I almost scratched that one out), bully more underclassmen, random growth spurt…_

_I think that's it. I can't think of anything else. I'll talk to Sammie about it during lunch._

My best friend rolled her eyes at me when I pointed the differences out to her. "Well, duh. Why do you think there's even more girls flying after them than before? You are so oblivious, Kim."

Love is a strange thing.

We sat down at our usual table along with some other C list-ers. It didn't really matter to me. I wasn't obsessed with the idea of popularity. Just Jared. Sammie on the other hand was ambitious. She wanted to sit with other people who weren't deemed "losers" yet.

Thanks, Sam.

I clenched my hands, trying to circulate some blood to hold down the chills while Sammie started rambling about her English class. Not working. I forgot my jacket in chem and was too much of a coward to go back for it while a class was going on. Yep, that's me, Kim. The Coward.

"Want some?" Madison shoved some gross-looking pudding in my face. I wrinkled my nose and waved it away. "Thought so," she said cheerily. "This food is contaminated. We even have the generic meatloaf surprise labeled on our five star menu." I turned to the freckled girl.

"Really? Thank god I don't eat from the cafeteria." I shuddered at her plate. I would rather go hungry than eat that green looking stuff. Madison grinned and took a disgusting rock from her tray. "Mmmm," she waved it in my face, causing me to lose my appetite altogether.

I pushed back my brown paper sack and slouched in my chair. Sammie glanced at me from her peripheral vision and gave Madison the classic, evil "look." I noticed the exchange and groaned, almost missing Sammie's gesture to move.

Time for Health.

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**Soo, what did you think? I'm trying to update all my stories tonight…BTBW and this. My eyes are going to burn in the morning from looking at my computer screen for too long. There's going to be more action as the story progresses, no worries. It won't be all journal entries. Ahh still beta-ing myself, so excuse the errors :D**

**Review? *pleading eyes***


	3. Slam in Seattle

**Ekk, I'm so sorry this chapter has taken forever. At first I got a minor case of writer's block, then I focused on my other story…and I can go on making excuses that you could care less about. Anyway, here it is. I tried making it longer to make up for the time lost :D More "action" than journal entries this time around. Oh, little tidbit, it's still Friday in Kim's world. Please enjoy and review!**

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner...*sniffle* Also, the idea of this "art scene" below (you shall read ;D) comes from Meg Cabot's _All American Girl _with the whole drawing what you know lesson. Like the protagonist of that story, Madison is also an artist with red hair, but the similarities end there. She's got her own personality and OC mind. Thanks ;D

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_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Three:

_Mrs. Taylor hasn't come in yet. That would be awesome if we had a roll and release._

I had to do something in order to ignore the temptation of looking at Jared. So, I was writing in the journal, _again._

_I wonder what I will be doing tonight. Tomorrow's Blaire's little get-together. I have a feeling that it's going to be a little more than a "few friends." She still hadn't figured out what to buy me off with. Not that she will. She knows me about as much as my parents do._

_They're working late again tonight. *gasp* So, I'll have the house to myself. As usual. Blaire's going to be over at Sarah's for a sleepover._

When was the last time I had a sleepover?

I think it was at Madison birthday party two years ago. She had invited all the girls in our grade---less than thirty---for a "we've survived middle school" celebration. Sammie was the only person who refused to go (the other popular kids just politely declined). She and Madison had a fall out earlier in the semester. They've never been the same since, hence lunch today.

I like Madison, she's refreshingly different. Then again, she _is_ the only Caucasian at our school. The board's kind of stingy when it comes to having diversity. Most everyone "special" (their words not mine) just goes to Forks. But Madison's mom works as a teacher here, so she was allowed to stay.

"Today we're talking about the food pyramid." Mrs. Taylor came into the room all chirpy. The whole class moaned---so much for having a free.

We started at the bottom and went all the way to the top. So far, I had broken almost all the serving rules. I wonder if Jared ate healthy….probably not.

"Would you like to share something with the class?" I jerked my head and watched as Mrs. Taylor _tsk_ed my husband-to-be and Paul.

"No, Mrs. Taylor. We were just discussing our daily intake of food." Jared said; his lie as smooth as he was. "Right Paulie?" He thumped Paul on the back, smiling.

"Right," Paul coughed, his fists tightening. "Me and Fat Ass over here were talking about how he needs to cut the calories."

Oh, Mrs. Taylor just _loved_ that.

"Both of you, separate. Paul, stay where you are. Jared, go sit in the front row, and take _all_ of your stuff. That will be your permanent residence in this class from here on out."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Come on, Kim. Breathe. Breathe.

This is a fan girl's dream. My dream. Did Mrs. Taylor _really_ say that? I pinched myself awake. This can't be happening. I checked out my classmates' reactions.

Sammie appeared to be mildly perturbed, but other than that, excited. She now had Paul to herself. Paul tried to act down about the new arrangement, however, we all knew fireworks were going off inside. He hated Jared. The rest of the class was uninterested, and Jared... Jared was mad. Furious and shaking. He practically smashed himself down in the seat in front of me. I could almost touch his back---that's how close I was too him.

Mrs. Taylor was victorious. I wanted to kiss the ground at her feet for giving me this opportunity. I quickly slammed my journal shut, hoping he didn't see anything. Major crisis averted. Now, just to figure out what to say…

"_Hey Jared, welcome to the loser spot."_

"_I'm in love with you, Jared. It's nice to finally meet you face-to-face."_

"_Don't be mad, now you've got me to keep you company!"_

I sighed loudly, knowing I'd never _ever_ say those things, no matter how true they were. He might think I was crazy.

Definitely not a good way to start off a relationship.

I tapped my pencil on my desk, mind now focused on the god in front of me. My daydreams consisted of him turning around and in that deep voice of his, say my name. Just my name. He'd look at me with those dark mysterious eyes---completely smitten.

I jerked myself up. It was clear that I read _way_ too many corny romance novels. In reality, life wasn't fair. Popular girls hooked up with the popular guys. It was the unchanging, social code. If you didn't date within your "station," it was instantly noticed. And with that, came the gossip. The cruel, fast fire gossip that killed a reputation within a day---sometimes even less than that depending on the student body size.

I hate school systems.

A drip of sweat formed on my forehead. I wiped it quickly, wondering what the heck was wrong with me. I only "glowed" (my mother's _ladylike_ word for it) when I was making public speeches, talking to guys, and obviously, when I was hot. Confused, I glanced around the room; the class was pretending to listen to Mrs. Taylor as she showed us some diagram on the wall. They seemed normal enough. My clothes began to stick to my body and I felt like the sun was scorching me alive. It was as if the temperature had gone up 40 degrees.

The only thing wrong about that was one) I was in a classroom and two) it was snowing outside. Was it the heating? I couldn't even tell. I meekly raised my hand. I _needed_ air.

"Kim?"

"Can I go to the restroom?" I squeaked, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. She nodded, and I hid my journal under my textbook, high-tailing it out of there. A rush of cold air hit me as I found myself in the narrow hallway.

Guess it wasn't the heating. I bet it was my reaction to Jared---that's the only reasonable explanation for it. I was going to have to prepare next time…I couldn't be sweating like a cow every health class. Lighter clothes, I decided. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I'd just wear thin, long sleeve shirts and a jacket, taking off the later when it was time for that particular period.

There, problem solved. I grimaced at myself in the dirty mirror in the girl's bathroom, and doused my face with water. My bangs just _had_to get in the way, so I ended up drenching my hair too. Perfect. I saw my reflection and for the billionth time in my life, I mourned the fact that I didn't inherit my mother's genes. You guessed it----Blaire did. I was reminded of that every time we had to get dressed up.

Jeez, I was acting like one of those super self-conscious girls who were obsessed with what they looked like. My mouth stretched into a small grin, giving me all the confidence I needed to slink back to class.

Right in time to hear the homework.

Later, I found myself dozing off in Mr. Boyd's during a long winded explanation of some European war, only to promptly get poked by Sammie.

"Wanna go to that party Saturday? A freshman is throwing it, but everyone's going to be there. Paul, Jared, and that guy in second period…" She went down a long list of names. I blinked, forcing myself awake.

"Freshman?"

"Yeah, some girl named Blaire. Her friend is from that stupid clique that likes to smoke near the dumpsters. What's her face?" Sammie snapped her fingers, trying to figure out the name. "Oh, Sarah Bark. That's it. She's in my gym class."

Blaire was so dead.

"My parents are going to _kill_ her when they find," I muttered darkly. Sammie's eyes widened as she realized who I was talking about.

"You mean---Blaire, like your sister, Blaire? She's the one who's…," she trailed off, not needing to go any further. If I left like my idiot sister wanted me to, I was going to get in trouble for not using my non-existent sisterly "influence" to stop her. And if I stayed, I was going to get blamed for encouraging her.

Either way I was toast. Time to write some contingency plans.

"We don't have to go," my friend assured me quickly.

"It's my house," I said. "Where else am I going to go?"

"Well, I don't know. We can get some people and head to the beach, though I'm pretty sure the Forks kids are going to Blaire's party. Or—"

"Forks kids?"

She looked at me as if I were dumb. "Yeah, nobody's had a rave lately, so this is like the next big thing. It's gonna be huge." I thought of my small two-story house and cringed. I could only imagine the mess that was going to be left behind.

"I have to stop her. She's going to get us both in trouble."

"It's too late for that," Sammie shook her head. "The word's already spread."

_**How to Stop A Party**__by Kim_

_-burn the house down (probably not an option)_

_-put poisonous gas in the vents and scream wildly_

_-make it really lame and hopefully people will leave_

_-have the parents come home and tell everyone off (last resort)_

_-get the police (doughnut shop is full of them)_

_-send everyone a message that gives a different location (should've done that earlier)_

_This is the stupidest list I think I've ever made. Probably because absolutely_ none _of these ideas are ever going to work. Even I know when I need to get real. Okay, or more creative._

"What's that?" Madison said, trying to look past my hunched shoulders.

"Notes," I replied a little too quickly, turning the page over. She raised her eyebrows. "It's an art class."

"Aren't finals over the artists?" I asked---my voice a little too desperate. She giggled at my useless efforts. "Yeah, like in, oh I don't know, _nine_ months."

"Well, I was you know, getting…uhh," I blubbered, trying to come up with another excuse. Madison rolled her eyes and went back to her sketch. We were supposed to be drawing still-life fruit---simple enough. Mine looked like kindergartener scribbles. The teacher came by and glanced over my shoulder, shaking his head sadly. I reddened and tried to make it look better with a few dark shadings.

Now my apples were plums.

"Ms. Madison," his deep voice filled the whole room, "you're drawing it incorrectly."

Everyone instantly turned.

"But it's art!" Her charcoal fell out of her hand with a clatter. "You can't do _anything_ wrong. I can draw a picture of my butt and people would think it's a masterpiece."

It's true. You could buy _anything_ these days.

He sighed wearily. "The objective of this class is to better your skills. I just wanted to tell you that your fruit does not look like the fruit I assigned you to recreate."

Madison's fiery red hair and freckles stood out as she stared at him, mouth agape. "Are you serious?" Her blue eyes literally were throwing darts. Out of our whole school, Madison was by far the best artist. I stared at her paper. The picture was even better than the original.

"You're not understanding me," he told her. "This fruit," he motioned to her sketch, "is not the same as that." He pointed to the lone fruit basket on the stool in the middle of the room. "Draw what you see, not what you know."

"Yeah, I'm not getting you," her expression softened a fraction as she realized he was actually trying to give her constructive criticism.

He tried again like the patient teacher he was.

"You see that apple?" I noticed a bruised apple in the middle of the display. "It's not shiny like in your drawing, it has a dent on its side. And why are there grapes in here? I don't see grapes in the basket."

"It worked better," she said stiffly, but had already gotten an eraser out to redo her sketch. The teacher gave her an encouraging smile and moved on to the next person.

"Freaking fruit," she mumbled to herself. I gave up on my piece of art and started doodling Jared's name on the edge of my paper.

"So you've got the hots for Mr. I'm So Full Of Myself?" Madison voiced off. She gave me a gigantic smirk. I blushed furiously as she handed me the pink eraser. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Just a crush," I said, trying to shrug it off and make up for my minor blunder. Madison, as usual, wasn't fooled.

"Whatever you say, Kim." After a brief moment of silence and furious angry scrawls, she started up again. "Hey, are you doing anything with _Sammie _tonight?" Her words were laced with venom when she mentioned my best friend's name. I shook my head. Sammie was going to Port Angeles to flirt with some guys at the rec center. I told her I was going to pass.

"Awesome. I was wondering if you wanted to hang with me tonight and go to Seattle. My friend is reciting his poetry at this café, and wanted some moral support."

"Isn't Seattle four hours away?"

"Yep," Madison said, putting a pop on the 'p.' "Think of it as a mini road trip. Will your parents be okay with it?"

I was sort of flattered. Madison was mostly just a school friend, you know, the person you'll talk non-stop to during classes but never hang with on weekends. I could feel the excitement build up in the pit of my stomach. Something new.

"Yeah, most likely."

"Great, I'll pick you up right after we break out of this joint. I hate driving in the dark." I did a double-take.

"Wait, _you're_driving?" Cackling, Madison nodded her head, swearing she wouldn't kill us. I gave off an uneasy laugh, causing her to make enough racket where even the teacher looked our way. And he was a little deaf in one ear.

Go figure.

It wasn't hard to convince my parents over the phone. I almost wished they'd be a little more concerned. Mom thought it was cute that the "little Madison girl" asked me to go. My dad told me that the some extra money was in the cookie jar above the fridge. Yeah, don't ask. After those painful conversations, I was able to quickly pack some stuff in my handy tan messenger bag before I heard an obnoxious car honk.

"You're going to need more than that," she told me when she found out what I was bringing. I saw a baby blue duffel bag dumped behind the driver's seat, and realized that she was planning for us to stay in Seattle over night. Whoops.

"Where are we going to sleep?"

"Either my friend's house, aunt's house, or a cheap hotel. You chose," she said while helping me pack some clothes. "Nice room." I saw that she was examining my periwinkle bed covers and its clash against the pale green walls. I had thrown some accent pillows to mix around the colors, but it was obvious that I was no interior designer. Not my forte. She listened to me ramble about its weirdness for a few minutes before interrupting me and saying that we needed to hit the road.

One thing can be said about Madison's driving. She's fast. And she has road rage. Her stereotypical hair color personality (red=temperamental) matches her driving behavior exactly. I was so freaked out, that I yelled for joy when I saw that we were stopping. Madison was a little offended to say the least.

"It wasn't _that_ bad," she insisted as we were striding across a congested street walk. We had to park a mile away from the café due to insane traffic. Downtown Seattle must be a party on Fridays.

"I'm just grateful I'm alive," I said, nearly running into a pack of college students. "Who's your friend again?"

"Oh, Jeff." Madison nodded. "I met him during camp in seventh grade, and we've been tight since. He lives here, so we take turns visiting each other. It's going to be harder with school now though." Randomly, she began jumping right as I caught view of a bright neon sign flashing _Bluebird Café._Packs of people were trying to get in all at the same time---most of them teens like us.

"Open poetry slam," Madison explained to me when she noticed my confused face. She checked her watch. "Jeff should be on in an hour or so. Let's grab some coffees and wait."

We slid in between the crowd and managed to find an unoccupied loveseat near the window. Then, Madison and I proceeded to dump tons of crème and sugar into our caffeinated drinks while playing twenty questions. It was hard to hear---the room was filling up quicker than an airplane terminal. Some girls near the makeshift stage had music blaring, shaking their hips at unsuspecting onlookers.

"It's very casual," Madison said out of blue as someone made a fool of herself by tripping over a chair. "I've been coming to these for the past three years with Jeff. He's not the greatest poet, but he tries anyway."

"Like how bad is he?" I wondered out loud. She put a finger to her lips. "Don't tell, but he's horrible. Not really much of a writer."

"Have _you_ ever competed?"

Madison snorted. "Yeah right. I stick to my art. I tried once…I don't do rhymes. Or theater. Or any of that stuff."

A hush fell over everyone as the slam began. The judges had been randomly picked and were already finished with their "sacrificial poet." I listened as people, some who were amazing, recited their pieces. A majority were just teens telling me about their lives. Sometimes, they used diffent voices, dipping into the art of theater, while other times they resorted to humor and standup comedy. One person whispered,

_I live in a world where I am a shadow,_

_I live in a world where there's no light,_

_I am no one._

They went on into some other pretty depressing stanzas, and then afterwards got their score. After what seemed like two hours, I felt Madison pinch my side. "That's Jeff," she hissed to me.

A mud-haired lanky boy walked onto the "stage" and shouted his poem. His eyes were closed and he rocked back and forth on his toes.

_Thou shall not sit on thee arse!_was the first line I heard. It got even weirder and more vulgar every time he opened his mouth. Madison was cringing by the end---you get the picture. I hoped he didn't _really_ speak like that normally.

"He doesn't even make sense," I whispered to her. She quirked a smile. "Yeah, that's the point. Jeff has _never_ made sense. When he does, that'll be the end of his poetry slam career."

I wasn't sure on what the judges decided to give him, but I'm pretty positive it wasn't high enough to go onto the next rounds.

"Maddy!" He found us right after his performance, dragging us out of the café and onto the dark streets of Seattle. I examined Jeff as he excitedly talked to Madison about what had been happening since she last saw him. He was tall, sporting bright hazel eyes along with a face tanned from the sun. He was a_little_ cute, I'll admit, but it was clear that he already liked my friend. It didn't matter to me----Jared was my only love.

"Who's this?" He asked, finally noticing me. Madison smacked herself on the forehead. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce you guys. Jeff, this is Kim. Kim, this is Jeff." He shook my hand and tried making small talk with me. I couldn't even handle that without stuttering---I was grateful when he realized the efforts were useless.

We all decided to go catch a movie before Madison and I headed out to find refuge for the night. It was awkward to say the least. Jeff couldn't retain his excitement when Madison sat next to him, and she was oblivious to his wooing efforts. Even I, anti-social Kim, could tell.

It was kind of funny.

I munched on some popcorn while they talked throughout the commercials. Would Jared and I be like this? Friends first then lovers? Or would we skip steps? I thought about him, envisioning him as the hero instead of some random actor as the movie progressed.

Maybe this party wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it would be worth the yelling I'd get from my parents. Maybe I could finally talk to Jared.

Maybe…

Or maybe not.

* * *

**So, how'd you guys like it? I've never been to a poetry slam before, so tell me if I got any details mixed up. Just wanted to give Kim something to do before the party….and introduce Madison a bit more. I promise the update won't take two months to put out next time! I swear…thanks to all of you who were patient. Beta'd by me (still), so hopefully there aren't too many errors.**

**Please Review ;D They make my day.**

**Side Note: It was just pointed out to me by a very helpful someone that the temperature sytems are different for everyone---excuse my slightly stupid moment. :D Anyway, when Kim's feeling hot, it's about 100 degrees Fahrenheit (at least for her) which is around 37.77 degrees Celsius.**


	4. Not a Knight in a Fairytale

**Ahh another update :D There is a slight tense change in the end (you'll see)…it was necessary so hopefully no one will get too confused. Just as a heads up, because it's the party scene there'll be some minor drinking etc…yeah, I think that's it. Still beta'd by me, so excuse the errors.**

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Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner...*sniffle*

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Four:

We miraculously made it back home in one piece.

Okay, I lied. Not quite.

Madison was currently fuming because she was caught speeding through Forks by some officer named Swan. He ticketed her (obviously) and started mumbling how we were too young and irresponsible to be drivers. I frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar---I think my mom was gossiping about his family or something with Mrs. Clearwater the other day. It had to do with an accident that occurred last spring…it involved stairs? I wasn't sure---my eavesdropping skills were in decline.

"Bloody man needs to mind his own business," Madison yanked the car into "drive," and we were off at a much slower pace towards the rez. I nodded absentmindedly, not really listening to her continuing rant. Glancing out my window, I suddenly stopped and stared. It was like someone had lit fire to the sky---the colors were orange and blinding.

If only I was a painter.

I continued to watch the sun climb its way up to the top for the rest of the trip, mumbling an incoherent thought to Madison now and then to show her that I was listening. Sort of.

"What are you going to do about tonight?" She said, finally calming down. I jerked back from my reverie and caught her blue eyes staring at me, waiting for an answer.

"Uhh…" My brilliant response.

"No need to be secretive," she smirked. "I know things." Madison tapped her brain as if to reinstate the claim.

"Then how do you stop a party?" My words came out all flustered and rushed---I could feel the red spots flaring on my cheeks.

"No idea, _mi amiga_. But I'll be there to 'supervise' if it makes you feel any better," she air quoted, giving me a big grin. The car began idling and I realized that we were in front of my house already. Pushing open the door, I thought over her words and asked, "Supervise as in supervise or supervise as in get drunk and party?"

I knew what Sammie would do. The usual---try to act cool and ditch me on the dance floor.

Madison tapped the wheel. "Well, I'd _love_ to do the latter, but just because I love you, I'll try to stay as sober as possible to help contain the crowd." A sigh that I didn't know I was even holding escaped me.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she winked. "It's the least I can do for my little prude." I slammed the car door in mock fury, waving to her with my free hand once I got to my porch. Madison threw a salute and she was off, leaving a trail of dark smoke behind her.

I was greeted with an empty house.

I threw my key on the kitchen table and made a cup of hot chocolate. Blaire was with Sarah, probably planning the fiasco that would grace my home later, and my parents were already at work. I probably wouldn't see them until tomorrow when they were yelling at me.

Great.

I rummaged through my messenger bag and produced my journal. I hadn't had the chance to do anything in it last night. Chugging down the last of the chocolatey remains, I turned to a new blank page and started writing.

**Saturday**

It began with the three lines I had heard from the poetry slam.

_I live in a world where I am a shadow,_

_I live in a world where there's no light,_

_I am no one._

Then, I created my own stanzas.

_Opportunities coming knocking and I resist the call._

_Is it shyness, is it meekness?_

_Is it pain?_

_I am lonely, a mere soul on a street._

_I am not no one…I am nobody._

Ms. Carote would probably want to scream at me for using double negatives, but it was _my_ entry…and for once I didn't care. The last line didn't even make sense—oh well, I was no poet. Something shattered in the distance, but all I was focused on was my stanzas. I sounded _depressed_ and almost lifeless. What was wrong with me? The words began blurring, and a single tear dropped on the paper.

It was clear. I needed a life---or at least a way off the self-pity train. I angrily rubbed the saltwater out of my eyes before peering over the table to see what dropped. Of course---my mug. I cleaned it up quickly, avoiding any contact with the shards. I was not in the mood for blood.

Blood.

The word set off something in my head and I scrambled to find a calendar. I began laughing hysterically. No wonder I felt messed up. If only Mother Nature could wait until _after_ the party to cast her monthly curse.

Hopefully I couldn't get any major swings and decide to act like Sammie this evening.

* * *

"I'm home!" An obnoxious voice announced to the whole world after throwing our very breakable front door open. I was up in my bedroom, adding another line of "I love Jared" to my journal. I had already translated the sentence into 26 other languages, you know, just in case he couldn't understand the English version. Although I'd witnessed his low intelligence in Health class, I had come to the conclusion that it made him all the more endearing.

"Is anyone even here?" Someone murmured to my loud sister. I put my notebook down softly and got off my bed. Who was that? If it was a guy, Blaire was already as good as dead. I popped my head over the top of the stairwell and watched as a scrawny brunette followed Blaire into the living room.

Only Sarah.

My sister shrugged and collapsed onto our coach, flipping on the T.V. Sarah cautiously followed, sitting at the very edge----as if ready to bolt at moment's notice. That was weird. I squirmed with myself, trying to put on a "Big Kim" face. I couldn't show Blaire any weakness. She would eat it up for breakfast, and then serve it back to me for desert.

"As the matter of fact, someone _is_ here," I said confidently, walking down the stairs like I owned them. Blaire rolled her eyes and Sarah gave me this freaky animalistic look. She seemed pained, legs quivering and all. My façade almost slipped as I scanned her.

The girl had problems. I was Kim---a person who wasn't even able to scare a fly.

"What's up, sis?" The devil said, not even glancing up from her show. Taking a deep breath, I sauntered over and grabbed the remote from her hand, turning the television off with a flick of a finger.

Be Brave. Be Brave.

"Don't 'what up' me." I tried making a sneer, but my mouth didn't want to cooperate. I probably ended up looking like a demented clown. "Everyone's _so _excited for your little pow-wow tonight. I think even the nerds have heard about it by now."

"Meaning you," she snickered. I gave her a "don't mess with me" glare, failing miserably. Blaire threw up her hands. "Look, I can't help it if _I'm_ popular and _you're_ not. People are bound to hear about stuff no matter how quiet I keep it."

"Quiet?" I shrieked. "Telling everyone at school is _not_ quiet. Quiet means not talking about it. At all."

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Kimmy." Blaire repressed a yawn. "It's not like you're invited."

Oh no, she did _not_ go there. I was losing patience---and courage. This was why I was considered the shy, meek one. I didn't blurt out profanities or scream at spoiled siblings even when they deserved it. I _couldn't._ It wasn't possible.

"It's _my _house too. And you didn't figure out a bribe, so ha." Yeah, I really just said that. I felt like burying my head in a pillow and screaming at my idiocy. Blaire tutted at me while shaking her head. My self-esteem dropped and whatever confidence I pretended to carry dissipated.

"I have to go," I mumbled, forcing myself into the dining room. Sarah peered at me through her long lashes.

"Your room's that way, hon." Blaire sang from her throne, pointing me to the direction of my sanctuary. I was defeated---but not that defeated.

Summoning up all I had in me, I retorted back, "Wow I can see your habit of being a bitch hasn't faded."

I was never a big curser. Or cusser. Or whatever it was called. And my little comeback wasn't even that big. However, the look on Blaire's face was for the record books. She gaped at me, not comprehending what I just said. Because that's just it. It was something I'd _never_say. The fact that it was me, timid ol' Kim, who told her off was shocking.

Hopefully it wasn't just because of the calendar date.

I should've added another little insult. I wanted too. But nothing came to mind. It was apparent that I was not made for this type of work. I hummed annoyingly all the way to the kitchen, feeling proud at the little scowl she gave me. Once I was out of her sight however, I sank into a chair and groaned. I wanted to go back to my bedroom---but that would be doing exactly what she wanted me to be do. I'd be playing right into her hands.

Fresh air. That's what I needed. I checked the clock and saw that it was lunch time. I threw on a jacket and slipped out the back, heading towards Sammie's house.

I decided last minute to cut through the trees.

The forest was alive and green. I walked carefully around a group of rocks, making sure I didn't trip. The wind was strong, rustling all the leaves around me and causing birds to chirp even louder. I pulled my jacket closer, trying to stop the chill from creeping up my spine. Everything smelled like dirt and moss. And ocean. The beach wasn't far from my house---the yells of the tourists sounded in my ears as I hiked past a clearing especially close to the sand.

Something darted in my peripheral vision and I jarred to a halt. _Please don't be a bear. Please don't be a bear._I hoped fervently, trying to stay calm.

A pair of dark, intelligent eyes was spying on me from behind a fallen tree. I trembled, not knowing what to do. We hadn't had our crash course in nature safety yet---that was supposed to be next month. Ironic.

It shifted and suddenly I was seeing the back of the animal. It was bounding away, black fur flattened from the speed. I couldn't quite describe what it was---it was half bear, half beast. I slumped onto the ground, not sure what to do. What if it changed its mind? I regarded my shaking limbs and felt the butterflies in my stomach.

I willed it not to come back.

* * *

"I heard Paul's going solo to the party," Sammie giggled while she did her toes. I stared blankly at the blue nail polish, still trying to get over the encounter in the woods. She noticed my lack of attention and shook me. "What is wrong with you today? At lunch you were off, and now---hey where were you last night? I tried calling you but your cell must've died."

Sammie was like that sometimes. She'd switch from one topic to another, not really giving anyone the chance to answer. For the first time ever, I wished she was more like Madison. My new friend was a person who actually cared for a response, no matter how laconic it was.

They were complete opposites.

"The party's starting around eight, so we have two hours to get ready." Sammie got up and rummaged through her closet. "Not counting delay time." She meant the minutes we spent dawdling around, trying to be not on time to the party. Believe me, I'm a pro at this stuff.

"What did you bring to wear?" She held out a sparkly dress to her body, brows furrowing. She turned to me after tossing it on her bed. "So?"

"Nothing," I said. "I didn't really expect to get locked out my house." After our lunch, I had tried to go home to get stuff for tonight but Blaire had barricaded every point of entry.

I know, sisterly love at its highest.

"You can borrow something of mine then," she said, eyeing a yellow dress. It was short and skimpy. Not a combo I liked. Madison was right, maybe I was a prude.

I found myself twenty minutes later backing into a corner.

"C'mon Kimbo, it'll be fine. Jared will be there and he'll love it!" She _had_ to use that card against me. I bit my lip. I had been trying not to picture him for the remainder of the afternoon. The thought of Annie being on his arm instead of me made my insides boil.

"Fine," I threw up my hands. I wondered where the Kim from this morning was. Probably hiding. I pulled the dress over my body and checked myself out in the mirror.

I was okay, I guess. It wasn't too horrible. If only I had bigger----no, I was _not_ going to even go into that. Sammie had already had a moan and groan session about her perfect figure today. I wasn't going to start one of my own. We did our hair---I curled, Sammie straightened---and then tackled make-up.

"What's this?" I wondered aloud as I picked up an oddly shaped container. I knew that I was not a pro in cosmetics, but still, I wasn't completely daft either. It's not like I had never seen mascara and eye shadow before.

"Anti-Aging Cream," Sammie replied, twirling a wand of lip gloss around. I gave her a side-glance.

"You're only sixteen."

"And you're not," she pointed out. "This is what us sixteen-year-olds use." I was _almost_sixteen, three more months and I'd be able to drive. Sammie was part of the group that had birthdays before school started. A majority of us were normal though---Embry Call was born in the same month as me and Jacob Black was a little younger than that.

"I'm positive they don't use that muck," I told her blatantly. Not as a teenager. My friend cocked her head slightly and looked at me in the mirror.

"Did something happen? You're acting all freaky." I shook my head and continued to apply some eyeliner. She continued to study me, brushing back a strand of loose hair. "Okay then."

* * *

Three words for Blaire's party.

Out. Of. Control.

I'm serious. By the time Sammie and I walked in, the streamers that must've been originally strung on the ceiling were trampled, the punch bowl was turned over, the music was blaring, and kegs were littering the floor.

And all Sammie could say was, "Hell yeah!" before leaving me to join the swaying bodies in the cleared living room. The air smelt harsh---like stale alcohol mixed with sweat. I coughed, searching for Blaire. She was in the center of everything, screaming music lyrics at the top of her lungs.

I did _not_ know her.

"Hey you," a hand touched my shoulder. For a brief moment, I thought it was Jared. My heart seized up and my legs became jelly. But then reality crashed down and I came face-to-face with Madison.

"Hey," I replied back shakily. She pointed to her ear, shaking her head. She couldn't hear me. I motioned her to the back where streams of people were coming and going. Madison trailed after, avoiding the already wasted teens.

"I suck at crowd control," she said. "I tried, Kim, but it got out of hand fast." She motioned around, and in just one glance I saw couples making out near trees, people splashing in Dad's favorite pond, movement in the tree house that was in the corner of the yard (insert cringe), and dark bodies dozing in the grass. Madison then pointed to some coolers. "May as well get drunk, 'cause you certainly aren't getting out of here alive."

"Thanks anyway," I said, pulling down the bottom of my dress as far as it could go. She noted that with amusement. Her red hair was up in a clip and she was donning jeans with a cute blue tank and jacket ensemble.

"Let's scout then." With that she pulled me back into the house and set us up near the stereos. Other than having my ears blasted, I had a good time pointing out cute guys with Madison (since speaking was impossible) and making faces at the popular girls. By the time we finished, it was only eleven.

"Baby, why are we here?" A whiney voice made me turn around. It was Annie. With Jared. I think I stopped breathing. He was gorgeous dressed up in jeans and an unbuttoned shirt. But it wasn't because of his body that I loved him (though that did help), his expression was so certain, so exact. So mesmerizing.

"Only for a bit," he assured her, giving Annie a small hug before heading off toward the coolers. I was happy because I didn't have to witness him kissing her, but I hoped he would be a _bit_ more sensitive during our relationship. Whenever that was. He definitely wouldn't get away with blowing me off like that.

"Somebody's found her prize," Madison said into my ear. She had an unopened beer bottle in her right hand, still unsure whether she wanted to drink it or not. I decided that I was going to be sober tonight---my parents would kill Blaire and I if we both had hangovers tomorrow. I hadn't even had a hangover before…and I certainly did not want to find out what it was in the morning. "Tail him and seduce him," she added, blue orbs glinting. I took her advice and fell in line behind him, knocking into Sammie along the way.

"Hey Kimpy," she said laughing, butchering my name. "Why's the room all funny?" I lead her to a chair so she could sit down. Madison watched me before giving off a little huff and fetching cold water. I left Sammie in good hands, not waiting to see the result.

Jared was talking to a group of friends, a bottle of liquor at his feet. Why did he have to drink? I thought about all the knight tales I had heard as a child. He still qualified because the chivalrous men liked to party too. I sighed. There was a loud crashing noise in the house, and most of the guys left to investigate, leaving Jared and this other guy alone.

"I'm going to get some Coke," his friend told him, sauntering over to the drinks for a second. Jared was alone. This was my chance. I would finally be able to talk to him. I smoothed my dress and casually drifted by to see if he would notice me.

He didn't.

Okay, so I'd just have to try another approach. I didn't have someone with me, so I couldn't randomly start talking or else he'd think I was crazy. I paused for a second, contemplating my next move. A drunken pair walked by and all of a sudden one of them accidently stumbled into me, causing me to lose my balance.

I wish that life was a fairytale, and that my knight in shining armor would always save me from my doom---in this case, falling. But that'll never happen...fate is not _that_ generous.

I quickly realized this as I got myself thrown into the pond.

My back instantly hit the rocky bottom of the pool---bubbles bursting out of my mouth at the impact. I choked, the green murky water filling up my nose and stinging my eyes. I couldn't breathe. With that thread of knowledge, I frantically tried flailing my arms to propel myself and force my body up. After a lot of freaky bird movements, I reached the surface---gasping as I gulped down some fresh air.

Nobody noticed me.

Realization dawned on me as I rethought that statement. I could have drowned, and no one would have saved me. They didn't _care_. If I was being fair, most teens were either high off weed, drunk, or simply too cool to notice. But I wasn't really in the giving mood, and none of those factors occurred to me. I tried laughing it off as I hoisted myself out of the pond, but that method never has worked with me.

The crimson flush is my expertise.

What's even worse is that I fell into Jared when I slipped on a stepping stone. He didn't make any attempts to catch me, just seemed startled when I fell to the ground next to his alcohol. The newly-returned guys in his group started mocking me, their booming as loud as thunder. My ears burned hot as I got up and scuttled away. When I quickly glanced back, I saw that Jared had a look of disgust on his face. The words that my friends had called him tumbled into my mind.

_Mr. Hot Shot. Full of himself.__Jock. Arrogant. Cocky. Rude.__Callous._

Maybe they were right_._ I felt betrayed. Why did he act like that? He should've at least helped me up. Jared was supposed to be like that---he was supposed to be my future husband, the caring, loveable guy I dreamed about every second of the day.

Blinking back tears, I cracked open a bottle of alcohol and downed my burdens. It tasted awful. I tossed it over my shoulder when I was done and reached for another. My mouth was dry and only this liquid of elixir was going to make me feel any better. I swished it around before swallowing it, wincing as it went down my throat.

Why was I doing this? I promised myself that I wouldn't drink tonight. I numbly put the glass bottle down and went to look for something stronger. Something that would make me forget that the obsession of my life wasn't as perfect as I thought he was.

* * *

A few bottles later and I know I've lost it.

People are going faster, their movements blurring in my eyes. I fumble into the living room, trying to make my way through the thick mass of bodies. Suddenly my body is moving to the beat with the others. It's fun. Everyone's nodding and having a good time, so I decide maybe this isn't so bad after all.

There's a buzzing in my head and I feel on top of the world. Happier than I have been in years.

Why was I so sad again? My brain is fogging up. I can't remember. I laugh wildly at myself and continue to dance…or at least that's what I thought I was doing. I'm not so sure anymore, everything's in weird colors.

I hear shouting---it hurts my ears. I yell for them to shut up, and someone grabs me from behind.

"Kim," they whine, dragging me to the side. I catch a glimpse of red, wondering who they are. I giggle---I bet it's someone from one of those reality T.V. shows. Who else could it be? I have to try to impress them somehow. I look around and find a half full bottle of something. I drink it quickly, or Big Red will come without me being prepared. Everything becomes even more unfocused than before.

"What happened?" Big Red is back, pouring something cold and nasty down my throat. I cough, splitting the liquid all over the place. Sounds come out of my mouth and I snicker. I'm better than those people on that singing show.

"You're an awful drunk," Big Red says again, hoisting me up onto a chair. With a hiccup, I'm on the floor again. They sigh, propping me up.

"Party's over!" Someone says in the background. They sound familiar sort of, but I can't think of who it is.

"Sam, it's a free country!" Another voice exclaims. That one rings a bell---literally---in my head. It's Ja—Jar---Jared. The shouting increases and gets louder. Then there's a lot of movement and this "Sam" person pulls Jared out of the house quickly.

"Oh my---" Big Red gasps.

My head's all fuzzy and I close my eyes. Too blurry. Too fast. Colors are blending into another and the music screams on. I moan---trying to will it all away.

I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

"Shit!" A girl shrieks close to me. Is that Blaire-Bear? I squint, trying to make out an outline. It is her. I notice that nothing is pounding my eardrums anymore and that people are leaving.

Is it over?

I didn't care to find out. Blackness fills my vision and my thoughts fade...

* * *

**Yeah…Kim's a little umm out of it. I've never really written a scene like that before, so correct me if I'm wrong. I actually liked this chapter---a ton of character development in my opinion. And it's long again, yay for you :D And it came fast, double whammy. Haha. I bet you can guess what happened at the end…with Sam and Jared. And if no one got it: Big Red=Madison. It sort of puts a twist on everything, Kim's realizing her Jared is not exactly who she thinks he is...**

…**.review? *major puppy eyes*….**


	5. Confused

…**sorry this is late. Like really late. I went through at least three drafts of this chapter and I'm **_**still **_**not sure if I got it right. The words didn't flow as they usually do. Oh well, you be the judge.**

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Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner…*sniffle*

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Five:

It took me more or less twenty seconds to get to the bathroom the next morning, and only five to heave all my stomach's contents into the porcelain toilet.

Gross.

I wiped my mouth and blearily glanced around the little yellow bathroom in confusion. Everything was too bright and too shiny. I had a headache the size of Alaska along with a dry mouth and a ravenous thirst. What was wrong with me? Was I sick? Then it hit me with another pang of nausea.

Hangover.

I pitched backwards onto the tiled floor. So this is what the morning's devil felt like. I had always had an insane curiosity of what people went through after a drinking session. Now I knew---and I would never, ever drink again. Leaning my head against my sink, I tried to recount what had happened. All I remembered was falling into Dad's pond….and Jared.

The room instantly began tipping. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the fact that my head felt like it was filled with confetti.

He betrayed me. Him and his lousy smile. The knot in my stomach tightened the more I thought about him. He didn't even help me, instead, he laughed along with his friends. Jared was no knight---he was the cruel jesting prince who sat around with his minions causing havoc on the kingdom. On my kingdom. Salty tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes onto my rumpled clothes from last night. Jared hurt me. He had been my rock, my unhealthy obsession.

Madison was right. This was way more than a crush. I had completely fallen off the deep end.

Which meant that recovery wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Top of the morning to you too," an unpleasant voice said. I grimaced and looked up. My sister stood in the doorway with a very fake smile plastered on her face. "It's nice to see you're finally conscious."

Blaire had circles under her eyes---her russet skin almost sickly looking. I couldn't be any worse off than she was, right? Putting two hands on my bathtub edge, I pushed myself up and lurched towards the door. I flat-out stopped when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My hair was greasy with limp curls, make-up smudged past recognition, and my skin was pale and clammy. I groaned. Nope, I was the poster child of awful. I should have a caption above my head that read, '_Stupid Teen+ Out-of-League Boy + Alcohol=THIS_.' I scooped up some water quickly from the sink and splashed myself. Now, along with my drunken makeover, I was crying black tears thanks to my mascara.

"You look and smell like shit. Go take a shower," Blaire informed me, crinkling her nose for effect. I managed a weak smile and pointed at her.

"You're not much better."

She smirked. "At least _I've _been drunk before."

"That's not something to be proud of."

"Whatever," she waved it away. The next bit took her a second or two to splutter out. "I, uh, made coffee for us downstairs. Can you help me clean up?" I raised my eyebrows at the sudden personality change, and she pouted. "Fine, _please_? Or it's both of our asses on the line." No kidding. I let out a long breath. I was going to be punished no matter what---even if it was idiotic Blaire's idea. May as well try and lessen the blow by cleaning up the house.

"I'm going to take a shower, but I'll _think _about it," I said, already knowing what my decision would be. She did too because she gave me her little smirk and left, closing the bathroom door behind her. I wish I could be strong and tell her no. I guess it wasn't scripted in my genes. I pulled off my dirt-ridden dress (sorry Sammie) and gingerly got into the shower. Switching between hot and cold water, I winced as I got doused in an icy sheet then burned with fire. Did I mention that I was never drinking again? My skin was raw and abused, and my mind not much better.

I just couldn't think about _him_. It hurt too much.

Finally after what seemed like a millennia, I got out---water making puddles by my feet. The mirror was my enemy today. With all that make-up gone, I just looked _sad_. Like a beaten dog. I shook it off and went to get dressed, not really wanting to see what mess awaited me.

Blaire had surprisingly taken care of a brunt of it. All I had to do was drag a trash bag around and gather all the cups and broken bottles.

"Three broken vases and an urn," she said from the backyard. "Please don't tell me it was Grandma Pearl." I paused for a slight second. They had broken _that _urn? We had just signed our own death warrant. Mom and Dad would _kill_ us. They had fought long and hard to keep those ashes (the reason why still eludes me). I remember trying to forget that my deceased grandmother sat cremated in my living room so I could get some sleep at night.

"What color is it?" I asked. _Please don't say green. Please don't say green. Please don't sa-_

"It's this weird vomit color." I let out a sigh of relief. We were good. Well, sort of. Mom wouldn't be too happy that one of her precious heirlooms got smashed, but it was better than losing your grandmother's remains.

"Oh wait. That was the vase. It's sorta greenish. Reminds me of that Christmas tree we got three years ago." I saw her pick up a fragment and examine it. "It _is _her, isn't it?"

"Yeah." It was the only word I could manage to say. I think my heart was going into shock.

"Do you think they'll notice?"

"Yeah."

"We're screwed."

"Pretty much," I replied---my whole body was now quivering like a cell phone set on vibrate. I didn't even want to think of the sort of punishment we'd get. It was bad enough that Blaire had thrown a party, now there would be even a crueler sentence.

_Ding-dong._Blaire and I looked at each other before going into a complete frenzy. I dragged all the trash bags outside and stashed them behind a bush while my sister uselessly swept up some fallen popcorn. When the bell rang again, I took a deep breath and headed towards the front door. Blaire beat me to it. She tentatively ducked her head out before letting the screen swing wide open. Her expression was one of horror.

It was Harry Clearwater. And he was _ticked_.

"Are your parents here?" He demanded. We both shook our heads, not really wanting to hear the next part. "Samuel Uley informed us that illegal drinking and drugs took place here last night. Is that true?"

A new, burning hatred for Sam arose in me. That _boy _had no right to tattle-tale on us---he thought he was such a god. I think he seriously enjoyed causing trouble for every teenager on the rez. What was with him? He's nineteen---he should be in college, or out getting drunk himself, not acting like a hall monitor gone wrong. Or a mini secret agent for the tribal Elders. Blaire must have been thinking along the same lines, because she instantly sneered.

"This isn't his business."

Although relieved we were on the same page, I wanted to march up to my sister and shake her. Harry Clearwater was plain scary and should _never _be questioned. The broad-shouldered man stood tall at nearly six and a half feet, his dark eyes shadowed from under intense, bushy eyebrows. Even with his potbelly, no one would dare mistake him for anybody less intimidating. And he was a tribal Elder to add. The Elders reinforced the laws in La Push, and it was bad news if one made a personal visit to your house. It was also said that if an Elder ever got mad at you, you could be banned from the tribe. Of course, this was coming from the mouth of an obnoxious Quil Ateara during our third-grade trip to the zoo, so who knows what kind of legitimacy there is to that.

I hadn't ever wanted to be known to him. It was much more prudent to stay low on the radar. I guess it's too late for that.

"He's an honorary member of the council and it _is_ his business so to speak, young lady." I briefly wondered how much sucking up it took Sam to do to get that position.

"Is it true?" Harry repeated, turning to me. I froze in spot---I had no idea what to do. I blushed furiously and fiddled around with the hem of my t-shirt. Should I feed him lies, or _really_ tell him what happened? He _ahem_-ed me to get on with it.

I decided to be honest.

My body shook as I weakly replied, "It was supposed to be just a group of friends. Word must've gotten around because soon people wouldn't stop coming. They brought all the things Sam saw. We couldn't stop it."

The skin over those scary eyebrows crinkled as he tried to decipher if what I had said was true or not. I must have looked pretty pathetic because he believed me.

"Where is your phone?" Blaire mutely pointed him in the direction of the kitchen.

After he left the room, she straightened up and gave me an once-over. "I was just going to tell him Sarah did it. We would've been off the hook."

I groaned. My sister did not understand the definition of _friendship_. She huffed and went back to cleaning, grabbing her mug of coffee from a side table on the way out. Blaire obviously hadn't had too many hangovers, or she would have known not to drink too much of that. I fidgeted for a second before deciding on straightening some frames in the dining room. That way I could keep an eye on Mr. Clearwater and my sister. Maybe things would turn out okay.

* * *

They didn't.

"Kim, I thought we raised you better," My dad rolled away from his desk and walked to stand in front of me. I had been summoned to his study to discuss my misconduct. Harry had called my parents to tell them about the party that we had thrown while they were gone. The usual teenage antics.

Why did adults always have to assume things?

Dad crossed his arms, annoyed at my stoic self. Ugh, he was such a fake. He didn't even know how to act like a real father. _Probably because they didn't raise me at all,_ I thought bitterly. I had raised myself and Blaire. Granted, I was the worst surrogate mother for her, hence the hatred, but I did try. My dad really had no right to say that.

I remained silent.

He continued, deciding that he didn't care if he got a reaction or not. "Do you know how _embarrassing _it is to have one of the Elders call you about your ill-behaved children?" No, I didn't. Nor did I care. God what was wrong with me? Right. I was recovering from a hangover and I was on my period. Usually around this time of month, I always got a little snarky…but before, I never had anyone to be rude too. Blaire's little "stunt" certainly fulfilled my dream of getting my parents' attention.

"There's going to be major punishment for this, Kim." I blinked, trying to clear my head. My dad clenched his teeth in exasperation. Without another word, he gave me his version of an "I'm extremely disappointed in you" stare (failing miserably) and walked out with a flick of his hair. If I wasn't so out of it, I might've laughed.

Things didn't go any better with my mom.

"It was Kim's idea!" my little sister whined, a bottle of Evian in her hand. She gulped down the water before starting up the complaints again. I could hear her all the way down the hall. I considered turning around.

"Kim." Mom somehow saw me, her expression as cold as stone. I walked as slowly as I could, dropping myself on a kitchen stool by our granite island when I reached my doom. I tried shifting my hair so it covered my face. Didn't work. My mother shoved a plate of food my way as well as a cup of who knows what. I think this was the first time my parents were ever here for a meal besides dinner---and shockingly they could cook. We usually stuck a frozen meal in the microwave and ate that.

I felt cheated somehow.

"We need to talk," my mother whisked my plate away from me right as I was about to finish off the last bite. She then motioned me toward outside, ignoring my sister's pleas of innocence. The backyard seemed relatively clean, and now that I thought about it, the house wasn't in horrible shape either. No worse than usual anyway. Blaire must've cleaned it more when I'd gone upstairs after Harry left.

Her sharp tone caught me unaware, "I've heard her side, now what's your excuse?" She stared at me accusingly, leaving me no room to fend for myself. She was acting like she did in court. Newsflash, it didn't work that way at home. But of course my mother had no idea of this.

"I…she….she planned a party….invited the whole school," was about as much as I could get out. I could feel the heat on my cheeks already in full cycle.

"Really?" Mom arched an eyebrow. "_She _says that you initiated this hoedown and it _couldn't _be her fault because she barely knows anyone." By that point, I wasn't sure what side she was on---I was pretty sure it was Blaire's though.

"Ask anyone," I told her, a little angry. "It's not like you'd believe me anyway."

"Kim!"

"What? It's true. You were going to punish me no matter what. It's the _law_," I said, emphasizing the last word. Several emotions flitted across her face: bewilderment, hurt, then anger at the mention of her job.

"What has gotten into you, Kimberly? Yes, you intoxicated yourself, so I'm going to suspect that you _knew_and still _participated_at this party whether you planned it or not."

Thanks Sam Uley. Thanks a ton. Him, Harry, and Blaire got me grounded for two months. Not that it really mattered. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I had to come straight home every day to clean the house with my mother---the dust freak---as inspector (if she could manage to make it home, that is). If I didn't, they would call the police and I would get into even more trouble. They really needed to get a bit more creative. My sister got around the same punishment, except all she had was dish duty for the rest of the week.

Where's the fairness in that?

* * *

_**Sunday**_

_I never thought I would say this, journal, but life _really_ sucks. Blaire is such a blabber, and of course everyone believes the little darling. She started the party, almost back-stabbed her friend, and got the delight of getting me into even more trouble than her. Mom or Dad didn't believe me when I protested about the injustice of their "punishment." I_ hate _being the oldest. This is my new first new entry in this book. I tore the rest out. I don't want to be reminded of_ him_…_

_I have a problem though._

_I can't make myself throw away the pages. And I don't know why._

He wasn't at school.

Sammie walks blindly beside me, babbling about some upcoming dance. Her words go in one ear and out the other. I can't concentrate. I can't do _anything_. All day I had been mentally preparing myself for my health class. And Jared turned out being a no show. Everyone's whispering about how Sam Uley man-handled him out of the door _that_ night. Nobody knows what to make out of it. Madison tried consoling me during lunch, but got her head chewed off by my best friend for "irritating" me.

What's even worse is that I hadn't said a word in her defense. All I did was stare at my plain brown sack, wondering what was wrong with me.

"Earth to Kim," Sammie snapped her fingers in front of my face, unmistakably frustrated. I ignored her and kept walking towards her car. "Kim!" She took a hold of my shoulder and made me look at her.

"What's up?" I tried reverting my gaze, but she shook me again. "Is this about Jared?"

I didn't answer. Nothing would come out of my mouth.

"I heard about the pond from some dweebs," she said, lowering her voice. "I wanted to talk about it with you later, but I guess not." With a determined face, she opened the car door and made sure I got in before going around to the driver's seat. When she turned on the ignition, instead of going to our houses, she drove the opposite way.

To Forks.

"Thriftway has a better supply of ice cream," she said to my narrowed eyes.

"I'm fine, Sammie," I told her. Ice cream and chocolate were the cures for a broken heart. And that would imply that I'd actually went out with _him_. She let out a bitter laugh.

"Oh, give me a break. You are _far_from fine. We're gonna solve this the old-fashioned way." With that, she slammed her foot on the accelerator.

* * *

_**Monday**_

_I am bloated with artificial sugar. Sammie and I watched soap operas and ate like pigs the whole night. Apparently she'd gotten a buy from my parents, telling them that we had this insanely huge project to work on. No cleaning. *sigh of relief* Do I feel any better though? Nope. But I _think _I put up a good front for Sammie. I don't know how to feel, really. I mean, it was just a crush. But more. I loved him, journal. And he was such a_jerk. _Ugh, I shouldn't even be writing about that _boy_. This is about my new life---a life without Jared._

_...starting now._

_Mom and Dad were typing away on their computers when I got back. I guess they have some huge case to work on---as usual. Blaire hasn't even tried terrorizing me yet. I haven't seen her all day; only the light in her room tells me that she'd even been there. She's probably sneaking out. I seriously could care less. Madison left me some messages on my cell, but I really don't want to answer them. I feel so bad for what she had to see. I must have been awful…I _never _do things like that. I think she was the one that dragged me up to my bedroom. It makes me feel even guiltier. I owe it to her to call back. If only to be polite. Maybe tomorrow…_

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_**Wednesday**_

_Madison tried talking to me in art. It was awkward. She doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that I had been passed out and drunk. What's bugging her is _Jared_. She had gotten the story in full... according to her, I talk a lot when I'm wasted. Sam also drives her nuts. She saw him the other day fighting with a Makah woman. Now Madison thinks that he's trying to take over the rez. *insert eye roll here*_

_Paul got pulled out of Heath yesterday. The whole school is talking about it…his own Grandma Pearl died when she was sleeping---his last relative. He hasn't come back. I wouldn't either if I were him. Speaking of which, Mom just found out about the urn…we somehow had gotten away with it until Blaire let it slip at dinner tonight. What's depressing is that my mother hadn't figured it out beforehand. I think she's more ashamed at herself than angry. I could be wrong though. I lost a non-existent allowance and dating rights till I'm 18 and legal. It doesn't matter, journal. I won't be in love with anybody for the rest of my high school career. The only good thing that came out of it was that Blaire got the same punishment._

_Finally. Justice is served._

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_

One week. _He _had been gone one week. And since then, my whole lifestyle had changed. Nothing was the same anymore. I didn't realize how much I had obsessed over him until I stopped. And the results weren't exactly pretty.

"Kim, you're a mess," Madison bluntly said as she dabbed some paint onto a blank canvas. I dropped two opened bottles of blue on the ground in surprise, the acrylics getting everywhere. Madison laughed and hopped down from her stool to get some paper towels.

"No, I'm not," I lied quickly after enduring a murderous gaze from our art teacher. He coveted his paints like a priest covets the Bible. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and I met the serious blue eyes of my friend.

"It's about that asshole, isn't it?" It was, but I shook my head. She rolled her eyes. "Kim, you have to get over it. He doesn't deserve you. You're too good for him."

One problem. I didn't know _how_to recover from him. The thought of his stupid grinning face sickens me to the core. I got the visual every day---especially in health class. What made me even madder was that although I was _done_with the illusion of him, I still couldn't stop thinking about him.

It literally killed me to no end.

And I could do nothing to stop it.

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**I want to thank everyone who reviewed and encouraged me to put this up ;D You guys are amazing. I felt rusty with Kim on this one, but hopefully it turned out okay. All mistakes are my own.**

…**feedback?**


	6. Jared Anonymous

**I just realized that Jared imprinted on Kim later in the year…after Jacob phased. Ugh, and here I was trying to get it as accurate as I could. Ah whatever. Can't be perfect. I'll try…so, here's the much awaited chapter. I was **_**going **_**to update BTBW, but this one had been left alone for way too long. Don't worry BTBW fans, my other story **will** be updated. Eventually. **

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Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, never will. Let me cry in a corner…*sniffle*

Memoirs of a Crazy

Chapter Six:

"Okay, I went through some websites, and I've got it," Madison said, snapping her fingers. I barely lifted up my head from my arms. Lack of sleep had becoming a constant problem nowadays. Blaire had been fighting with my parents every night and well, the conversations weren't exactly short. She had tried to rally me with her, but I was still peeved at her about the party. Even me, the total pushover, wasn't in the mood to get into anymore trouble.

"What?" My voice was hoarse and crackling. I sounded awful. Madison noticed, her big blue eyes softening slightly.

"Have they been at it again?" She assumed my parents were the ones doing the fighting. I just found out the other day that her mom and dad were divorced. Safe to say, I obviously knew nothing about my new friend. I shook my head, not wanting to explain any further. She pursued her lips, but didn't broach the subject again. For the millionth time, I thanked my lucky stars she wasn't like Sammie.

"What did you get?" I asked, yawning.

"A way for you to get over that asshole." It was the last week of September, and _he_ still hadn't showed up at school. Not that I cared or anything. Okay, maybe a little. In my defense, though, it's a little hard to get over someone when you can't see them.

"How?" I glanced at Madison through the corner of my eye. She was frowning, probably thinking about the things _he _had done. She was very anti-Jared, a fact that I think was actually helping me get over him. Sort of.

"Meet me at Second Beach after school," she said almost mysteriously.

I snorted. "I'm grounded for life. Remember?"

Madison didn't look too concerned. "I've got you covered," she assured me. "Blaire owed me a favor." I did a double take. What kind of favor would Blaire possibly owe Madison? I had _never_ seen them even speak to each other. She laughed at my expression and gave me one of her famous devilish grins.

She was not going to tell me. How very unsurprising.

I was still trying to will the answer from her brain when we split our separate ways. Madison kept walking to get to our gym/auditorium building while I ran into my chemistry class. Mrs. Sooner's gave me a wilting glare, but continued on her discussion about accuracy, precision, and significant numbers.

"…two separate rules. For addition and subtraction, there are fewer significant figures and so all you have to do is look right of the decimal. For multiplication and division however, you must…"

I took down some notes and tried attempting a calculation or two, but my mind just wasn't there. It wasn't till Kelly started snickering behind me when I realized that the class had been waiting almost two minutes for me to answer a question that I didn't even hear. Why do teachers always have to do that?

"Kim, do you need to go to the nurse?" Mrs. Sooner practically mocked me. I slid down in my seat and shook my head, trying to ignore the fierce whispers in the background. My cheeks felt molten red, and I wanted to just go die in a hole. I was so embarrassed.

"I'll take her," somebody piped up from two rows behind me. It was one of the trio---Jacob, Embry, or Quil, but I couldn't tell which one. Most likely they wanted to skip class or something. I was the perfect excuse. Mrs. Sooner stared past me and rolled her eyes. She waved her hand off and as if by magic, somebody grabbed my arm and practically man-handled me out of the room.

It was Jacob. No surprise.

"I gotta check the new graffiti out back," he said more to himself than to me. Jacob's lanky frame probably would have collapsed under that smile if it weren't for his big head. At least, that was the case usually. But now I couldn't stop staring. He was starting to become more like _him_ and Paul--- buff and toned. Maybe it was just coincidence, I mean, this was Jacob Black we were talking about here. I knew for a _fact_ he wouldn't ever mess around with steroids. It wasn't like he was a pansy or anything, but him and his little trio weren't exactly bad boy material.

"You okay…umm…Caroline?" He didn't know my name. This would have probably irked me to no end if I was feeling self-conscious today, but right now, I was still in a daze.

"It's Kim," I snapped. Okay, I _was _a little peeved. Wouldn't you be too if your school held less than a hundred students?

"Right," he said, taken back. "You were Quil's lab partner last year." I closed my eyes and counted to ten. I probably should have just let it go, but I wanted to set Jacob straight. He was a good guy and all, but his memory sucked.

"No, I was yours."

Safe to say, he blushed scarlet and mumbled a few nondescript words under his breath. "Sorry. You and the other girl sorta look the same." Technically, everyone in our student body sort of looked the same in the eyes of an outsider. We were all Quileute with the same coppery-toned skin, same dark hair, and same cheekbones. However, I was not going to point out this to Jacob. I wasn't that mean.

"It's cool," I replied, heading off toward the restroom. No way was Ms. Sarah going to see me today in her office. She was probably the worst healer in the village. And she was also cold and heartless, a combination that suited her well.

"Kim, I really am…umm…sorry," Jacob shouted down the hall. I turned, nodded, and then went back to my business. My classmate, now that his apology was accepted and his duty done, strode outside to look at god knows what.

I felt extremely invisible.

The day blurred by after that. I returned to chemistry, only to find out I had missed the whole period (it saddened me greatly), went to gym, cried in free, and had to endure another health class with an empty seat in front of me. Lunch had been impossible; Sammie was so rude to Madison. I stood up for her, but as I just learned, my voice wasn't heard. Ever.

I guess some things never change.

* * *

"Did you bring the stuff?" Madison asked, strands of her red hair flying across her face. We were at Second Beach, and she was unsuccessfully trying to light a campfire with rocks and sticks. Yep, she definitely was no Girl Scout.

"What stuff?" I asked dumbly. Did she tell me to bring anything? I swore she said to go straight to the beach. Madison let out a long breath, stood up, and threw the pieces of wood on the ground.

"We need to go back to your house."

"What stuff?" I said again, my voice an octave higher.

"…this'll be great. I can get some matches, you get your things, then we'll be back on the road," she continued, completely ignoring me. I took a hold of her shoulders and shook her. I was in near panic now, but not really sure why. Her eyes widened as she took my appearance in. "Dude, Kim, chill."

I let her go, and my shoulders fell. Madison stared at me for a whole two seconds before cracking up, her arms wrapping themselves around her body for support. "Jeez, I thought I was dead for a second there." I glowered at her. She coughed, trying to calm herself down. "I meant your Jared stuff. We need to get rid of this boy once and for all."

She had only wanted to help me get over my crush. Or obsession, really. I took deep breaths, trying to restart my lungs. "Sorry," I mumbled. She looked at me strangely.

"It's fine. What _was _that? Do you normally have nervous breakdowns?" I hid a smile and started walking towards the car. She tailed me, waiting for me to explain. I sighed.

"Freaking out _is_ the norm our family. We're not ones for surprises. Sorry, I… I just didn't know what you were talking about at first." Truthfully, I didn't know what had set me off. Maybe it was because I had been envisioning me escaping La Push and us sailing off into the wide unknown. Away from ignorant parents and evil sisters. Away from the hurt and pain. Or maybe I was just making up lies for myself.

"You don't have to apologize," she said. "It's my fault, anyway. I should have explained about it earlier. Remind me never to throw you any surprise parties in the future." The grin had never left her face. We trudged across the sand back to the small parking lot that was squished between the tourist shop and the trees. I had ridden my bike (my parents didn't believe in making unnecessary investments---even if it did mean having their daughter get a cold every month), and Madison had driven her car. She took one look at my rusty transportation and stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Kim, it's drizzling," Madison said, stating the obvious. I could already feel the light rain infiltrate my hair, making it even frizzier than it already was. Perfect. I shrugged and unlocked my bike chain. It wasn't like La Push was known for its insanely sunny days or anything. She tapped her foot impatiently for a few seconds before making a quick decision. "'Kay, we'll head back in my car and grab everything, then go to the rec center. I know for sure they have a fireplace. We can't do the stuff out here anymore."

"Car?" I was already putting my leg around my bike, wincing at the weight of my backpack. She yanked the thing off of me and threw it into the shotgun seat.

"Yeah, car. No way am I letting you bike in this kind of weather."

"It's rain," I pointed out. "Not even remotely close to life-threatening."

"Can't take our chances now, can we?" I couldn't decide if she was just trying to be nice, or if she actually cared whether I got pneumonia. I went for the former and complied. I'd take a nice and hot heater over a cold wet trip any day. That's what any _sane_ person would do. I thought for sure she was going to be smug about it, but Madison helped me put the bike in the trunk and didn't say a word.

Weird. I seriously need to work on my character assessment. She was way more complex than I first made her out to be.

"Thanks," I said while warming up my hands. Raindrops flew all over the place as she shook her flame red hair ---it was almost as if diamonds were falling. I checked out my limp dark hair and frowned. One of these days, I was going to dye it to see what it looked like.

"It's cool, now, what goodies do we have to burn today?" I wish I could have said that sentence so lightly. But it was_ my_ heart that got wrenched, not hers. I guess I didn't get that special privilege.

"…umm…" I _wanted _to get rid of everything I had reminding me of him, but something in me didn't want to. It wanted to keep it all. I cursed that side of me. It was the thing that was bringing me down.

"Kimmy---" Madison paused, as if rethinking her sentence. She started again more gently. "Look, I know what this all feels like. I've been there. You _need _to do this for yourself, or you won't be able to let go of him. Number one rule of getting over a crush is accepting it and moving on."

"But...I _do _want to," I spluttered. "I don't even know what to feel though."

"Well, let's see. He's a complete douche bag who needs to go to hell, so if I were you, I'd feel sorry for him," she said matter-of-factly. "And seriously? Think about it. When was he ever kind to you? What did you see in him? He would've treated you like trash…like he did at the party. Kim, you deserve better." Did I? But _he _had been part of my life for three years---three _long _years. I didn't even remember my pre-Jared days. I couldn't go back to them even if I wanted to. I felt like hiding in my safety bubble where everything was normal, but it suddenly hit me that that had popped the day he rejected me.

Hooray.

I closed my eyes for a moment and decided that Jared and I _were_ over. And although it killed me, I _would _get rid of my stuff about him. Madison had a point. I couldn't mourn him forever. I had to get on with life, make new plans, and maybe find somebody who would love me for who I was. And could remember my name. Easier said than done. We reached my house (nobody was home), unloaded the bike, and then ran up the stairs to my room. Madison practically threw herself on my messy, unmade bed while I began rummaging through my closet.

Where was _it_?

I pulled out a big shoe box and stared it. Okay, maybe I had been a tiny bit more obsessive than I thought. The box was covered with a green wrapping paper (_his _favorite color) and had pictures of him pasted on there with football stickers sprinkling the sides. In my big loopy scrawl on the top, it read the word _Jared_. Suddenly, I didn't feel so confident in showing this to Madison. She would for sure think I was a freak---wait until she opened it.

"Damn." The mattress springs groaned slightly as she got off and sat down, Indian style, next to me.

I lifted the lid and took out all my journal entries, kissed yearbook pictures, a few chewed pens, and even a math worksheet he had dropped in the hall last year. Under all this, there were even more things along with a list of girls he had dated since I first "discovered" him.

"We are so feeding this to the fire," Madison muttered under her breath. "And getting you another hobby."

"It's not _that _bad," I said defensively, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. She shook her head at me.

"Nah, I've seen worse. But you seriously need to get rid of this, and anything else you might have that reminds you of him. The faster we get that done, the better."

I glanced at all my stuff and sighed. One day, I would look back at this moment and probably laugh. However, right now, all I wanted to do was cry and have another ice cream date with Ben and Jerry. It seemed so much easier then what I was about to do. Madison practically read my mind and put a comforting arm around my shoulder.

"If you _really _liked this guy, chocolate isn't going to do anything." She laughed. "Well, other than make you gain a few pounds."

"Okay." With that, we grabbed some matches under the sink and rushed back to the car so we wouldn't get soaked to the bone. I shuddered when I heard the thunder and saw a flash of black in the trees.

The bear thing was back.

Madison sped to the rec center, but groaned loudly when she saw it was already taken by a bunch of twelve-year-olds and tourists who were trying to get out of the rain. So much for that plan of action. Next, we tried the school, but it was already locked tightly for the day.

"We can do it at my house," she said finally. I blinked, completely caught off guard.

"We don't have to." I personally didn't want to be reminded of the burning every time I would come here in the future, but didn't feel the need to voice my opinion aloud.

"No," she waved her hand. "May as well. It's like a crypt until nine." I didn't pry, so instead, we both ended up talking about random things like the weather and Forks on the way to Madison's. "At least you're not like that Swan girl," she told me. "I heard she's got it bad. Like a mummy. Her boyfriend dumped her and moved to the sun." Of course La Push had already heard the talk of the nearby cutlery town. Everyone always got into everyone else's business. Which is why I had tried to keep my Jared-obsessing mostly in the closet.

* * *

Her house was a little rundown, but otherwise a very cute blue cottage with white washed shutters. Flowers bloomed outside, making the atmosphere even more homey. Madison parked out front, and we made our way inside.

If you didn't know Madison was an artist, you probably would have figured it out when you stepped into her home. Paintings were hung up everywhere, some bright and colorful while others shaded in blacks and whites. I was surprised about how artsy her place was. Supplies littered the ground and drop cloths seemed to be in every room.

"My mom and I both are uhh a little crazy," she grinned. "I did most of these---Mom's more into photography. We both are messy freaks, so I'm sorry about the maze. "

"This is amazing," I breathed, wishing my orderly house could be as chaotic as this one, but still completely put together.

"It's not much," Madison denied, biting her teeth into an apple that she snatched from a display stand. "But thanks anyway. Now, let's forget about this sad disgrace of a room and burn things."

I raised a brow, holding my shoe box closer to my chest. "You sure you aren't a pyro?"

She burst out in laughter, her blue eyes glinting almost madly. "You never know."

* * *

**Thursday**

_Madison and I lit the whole thing on fire. It was awful yet so cool at the same time. I never thought I would say this, but it also was actually pretty…helpful. I felt a release of some kind from _him _and his net of lies. Madison got some pastels and recreated the scene on canvas. I hope she's not planning to give that to me---it would be cruel. We listed all the bad qualities about Jared next---proper "hating" as she called it. The girl definitely had more to say than me. I couldn't bring myself to call him some of the things she voiced. It was _Jared _she was talking about here, the guy I'd been crushing on since eighth grade year. After, she gave me the whole lowdown on who her crush had been. It was some guy named Jeremy. Go figure. The "J's" weren't doing so well in the dating pool in my opinion._

_It was nearly seven by the time we finished. My parents still weren't at the house, and Blaire refused to tell me what she owed Madison for. I banged on her door for five minutes straight, but all I got was some cursing and shoes thrown at me. I am now sporting a lovely bruise on my left knee from when she slammed that piece of wood into it after I inquired about her arguments. I admit, it wasn't the _smartest _thing to ask, but I was fed up of her yelling. _

_Friday's tomorrow. Fingers crossed that _he _won't be there. If I don't see him for a long time, maybe that'll desensitize me somehow. Let's hope._

* * *

_**Friday**_

_It's the 29__th__, and he's not here. The Lord has answered my prayers. But that's practically 25 days of him missing school---not that I'm counting or anything. Ugh, I thought I would be over him by now. Yeah, it takes time and all, but…okay, I cannot keep writing about this. Madison's been helping me with her original "ideas," but they only work whenever she's with me now. _

_Lately, I've been trying to become a little more social. If I keep shutting myself up, it will make me think of he–who-must-not-be-named. No, not Voldemort. Though, at the moment, he_ _seemed just as evil as that fictional character. Annie was crying today at lunch. _H---Jared_ broke up with her on the phone last night. Apparently he said she couldn't be near him. My heart perked up slightly at the fact he was free before I realized that _Jared _wasn't part of my life anymore either. See? I can say the name now. Jared, Jared, Jared._

_Never mind. _

_My heart's exploding again. _

* * *

The beginning of October went by fast. Through anti-Jared techniques, Madison and I had officially bonded. Sad, but true. It was like going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, but instead of getting over well, alcohol, I was getting over Jared. Sometimes though, we just hung out at the beach on Saturday's finding rocks for random séances that would never take place, or spent weekends in intense "study sessions" for art class. My parents were the most gullible people that ever walked the planet. So much for the whole grounding threat. Sammie was officially giving me the silent treatment, and right now, I really didn't even want to mess with it. I would apologize later like I always did.

For once, I was happy with life. Well, as happy as I could be without my obsession. I was busy, sociable, and didn't have time to mull over my heart's desires. It was great.

But of course, it ended right then and there when I heard that little sentence being whispered throughout all of homeroom one Monday morning.

"_They're _back."

The prodigal students had finally returned.

* * *

**Jared and Paul had officially come back to school. Let's all clap for their slowness. Hehe. Anyway, hope you all liked the chapter. It's past four o'clock in the morning, and I'm pretty beat. Sorry---it was a bit of a filler I suppose (and a late one at that), but I wasn't going to jump to right when Jared imprints on her. We have to let her try and get over him first ;D I want it to be **_**somewhat**_** realistic. Madison confuses me, but I do love her compared to Sammie. –shudder- This chapter is showing that she **_**does **_**have a soft side. Sort of. Oh, and hates Jared for what he did to Kim (or maybe more? –wink-). And Kim, poor Kim is on an emotional roller coaster ride. I beta myself---all mistakes are my own. **

…**.review? Pretty please with a cherry on top?**


	7. Fight or Flight

…**I've been AWOL for quite awhile. I apologize. It's been really hard to motivate myself to do anything as of late. Life this last year was super crazy, and I'm just now able to sort of relax. I hope this reads okay…I haven't been in Kim's head for months. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep on writing this, you know who you are :D**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Seven:

"Are you going to homecoming?" Madison asked as she gnawed on a tuna sandwich. I gave her a thumb's down since my mouth full of chocolate pudding. Who would I go with anyway? I didn't really talk to any guys, and they certainly didn't talk to me.

"You should invite Jeff to it," I said, swallowing. "He'd really like it."

She shook her red mane and laughed. "Jeff? Please. We're just friends. It's not like that."

Not like that my butt. When she invited me to go see him at a poetry slam, it had been pretty obvious that he was completely smitten with her. That had been when I was still head over heels in love with Jared. _Jared… _I hadn't seen him or Paul yet even though people claimed they came back to school. It didn't matter, health was next, so I'd soon see if any of the rumors held true. Not that I really, truly cared. Okay I did a _tiny _bit, but I was pretty much over Jared. Honest. I was done with that jerk once and for all.

"I think you should invite him," I repeated with a smile plastered on my face. "Either way, he'd like it because he'd be able to spend some time with you."

Madison stared at me open-mouthed for a few seconds before blinking. "What the hell happened to my Kimmy? Why are you being so sentimental all the sudden? Is it because of that bastard?" Her voice went up an octave, and I had to shush her.

"Jeez, calm down. I was just trying to help Jeff out a bit."

"Wait," she said, her temper flaring. "He _asked _you to tell me to _ask _him?"

Ugh, my good deed of the day was totally going to waste. I took a hold of her shoulders. "No. Now go eat your tuna. I thought it would be nice if you invited him, so then at least one of us would have a date."

"Sorry," she mumbled, completely disregarding my words of advice. "What are you going to do about next period?"

"What do you mean?" I pretended to be ignorant. She was no idiot. Madison totally knew I was full of it.

"Will you be okay?"

"Umm…yes. I'll be fine. It's not a big deal." Madison rolled her eyes and sat back in her plastic chair. She strummed her fingers on the cracked wood of the table and then suddenly grinned.

"I think you're finally over him."

Her statement was equivalent to angels singing. I heard their high pitched vocals in the background, scattered within the noise of the cafeteria. My stomach twisted. If Madison thought I was over him, I had to be, right?

There was only one thing to do.

I had to prove it to myself.

* * *

Sammie ambushed me at my locker.

I had been switching out books, mentally prepping myself for next period, when her hand tapped my back, nearly giving me a heart attack.

"Jumpy much?" She smirked. Her playful charade dropped as soon as she saw my puzzled expression. "What? Too cool to talk to your best friend now?"

"What do you want, Sammie?" I said, trying not to cause any conflict. I hated conflict. I hated drama. I hated what was probably going to happen next between us.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you ditching me to hang out with _her_?" She looked me directly in the eyes, determined to figure out what was wrong with our breaking friendship. Usually I would apologize just to placate her, but for some reason, I didn't want to give in and be the old me. I wanted to be the confident, strong, independent me that I had been trying to become these past few weeks.

Of course, what I wanted to be and what I am are two different things completely. "Can we talk about this later? It's complicated." It really wasn't. Sammie didn't value her friendship with me, and I had moved on with someone who did. The whole thing was as simple as that. Luckily Sammie obliged, and we decided to meet at one of the places we used to go hang out at.

Maybe I wasn't the only one who had changed.

The thought bewildered me as I walked into the classroom, not paying attention to anyone or anything. Sammie slipped to the back of the classroom, while I plopped myself down in my chair, still attempting to figure out what had just happened. Sammie loved drama, why didn't she milk it when she could? Why didn't she blow up at me? Why did she reasonably decide to have her argument elsewhere when she could have been the center of attention at school?

It didn't add up.

Yeah, I was grateful she did what she did, but it sort of freaked me out because it went against all she stood for. _I have judged her throughout our whole friendship. _The thought hit me like a ton of bricks.

_**Monday**_

_Class hasn't started, but I think I've just made a huge discovery. I am just as bad of a friend to Sammie as she is to me. Granted, not quite at her level, but still…I have been pinning myself down as the victim when really she is too. Sammie uses me a lot, and has a huge burning desire to be popular. She doesn't appreciate me, however I've just realized that I don't appreciate her either. I have pinned her down as a drama queen popular wannabe since day one, and haven't really ever given her the credit she sometimes deserves. Sammie only is the way she is because I am the way I am. I let her stomp all over me. I've let her do that since we were kids. She doesn't stop because she doesn't get that she's doing it; she is so used to be me being the subordinate. She must've felt somewhat betrayed when I stopped talking to her without any explanation. She must've been a little hurt. And Sammie also must've realized that I'm worth something to her. Maybe our friendship can be salvaged…_

"Jared!" Mrs. Taylor's voice barked. "That is not your spot. Move. You can visit with Paul after class." My hand stiffened, and I quickly stashed my journal underneath an old textbook. Behind me, a chair screeched against the floor, making a sound that made my skin crawl. If I wasn't feeling so crummy about Sammie, I might've rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to be dramatic.

Loud footsteps walked up the aisle. I hid my flushed face behind my hair as I pretended to prepare myself for a long class of notes. Jared took his regular seat, his accusing eyes never leaving our teacher's annoyed ones. I sighed in relief; now I would be able to test myself (and see if I really _had_ gotten over him) without his knowing.

He wore a ripped t-shirt, his muscles clearly outlined against the fabric. But that's not what first got my attention. It was his hair, or lack of thereof. Before, his hair reached his shoulders, making him look almost mysterious. Now, it was a crew cut, making him seem more like a solider or professional body builder than a high school teenager.

He had changed somehow. Not just physically. I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was or _how _I knew this, but it was quite obvious he wasn't the guy he was at Blaire's party. He seemed almost darker, scarier somehow.

I didn't want to be near him.

He was literally radiating violence and self-loathing. Waves of it rolled onto me along with a strange heat. It suddenly occurred to me that it was him who made me "glow," not my nervousness. Why was he so warm? Did he have a fever? Was that why he was out for so long?

I glanced behind my shoulder at Paul. He was scowling at his hands, not paying attention to whatever Mrs. Taylor was blabbering about. His hair was also cut short, and his body was equivalent to Jared's, only a bit shorter and bulkier. Sammie was drooling at his form while I was disturbed. What had happened to the two? Why did they look like at any moment they'd go off the deep end? I suppose one could just say Paul was always like that, but Jared was usually the funny, lighthearted jock in class. What had caused him to be so angry?

I was left with more questions than answers.

Why did I care though? It wasn't like I was best buddies with the two. I really wasn't a Jared fan at the moment, and I'd never really liked Paul. The more I thought about it, the more I decided to ignore it. None of it was my business. It wasn't as if I knew them personally. With that set decision, I opened my textbook and aimlessly flipped through the pages. I really didn't feel like listening to the teacher, nor did I feel like speculating anymore on the mystery of the two prodigals.

I spent the rest of the period doodling and aimlessly staring into space, both very productive ways to endure the torture of class.

"Homework is the chapter review on page fifty three in your textbook, be sure to answer the questions in complete sentences."

I stretched, filtering out Mrs. Taylor's voice. The bell was going to ring any moment, and I only had a minute or two to ready myself for history class with Mr. Boyd. The universe was so unfair, giving me two stupid classes in a row. At least I had drawing last with Madison - the only happiness of my day.

The class began to stand up, signaling to me it was time to book it to next period. I scrambled out of my chair, gathering my books and backpack. I wanted to get a good spot in history, and also cool off from the sauna called health class. Oh well, now I had my own personal heater for the remaining of the school year. I just had to remember to double up on deodorant in the mornings and start layering my clothes.

I needed some Post-it Notes. I was totally going to forget all of this. I ran my hand through my hair, promising myself that I would brush it when I got home. It was frizzy, slightly greasy, and unmanageable.

Sometimes I hated Washington.

I don't really understand what happened next, but the next thing I know, I'm sprawled on the floor at an awkward angle with my books and papers scattered around me. I picked my head up slightly. Right in front of my face are two muddied sneakers, unmoving just like their owner. It was the party all over again. Except this time I was on the floor instead of in a pond. I cursed, grabbing my school supplies. How dare he do this again to me, how dare he have the audacity to trip me and refuse to help me _again_.

I stood up, ready to tell the jerk what I really thought of him.

Jared wasn't even looking in my direction. He was mouthing something to Paul, not even concerned about my welfare. He didn't even try to apologize for tripping me. I glared at the back of his head, pounding his scrawny brains with my mind.

That's it. I was over him. Jared could just go to hell for all I cared.

"You dropped this," a voice rang out. Sammie held up my journal, careful not to smudge the ink on the cover. She was irritated, grinding her teeth behind her pursed lips.

"Thanks," I said, grabbing it before she decided to check out what was inside.

"He's such a bastard," she declared. "I'm glad he can't break your heart anymore." With that she gave them both the finger, and headed towards her next class. I didn't even turn around to see their reactions.

* * *

Fueled by anger, I sat through history silently plotting Jared's slow and torturous demise. When our art class came around, Madison took one look at my face and decided it was in her best interests not to question me. Ironically, I drew my best work that day; the teacher applauded my use of emotion.

I would probably never be able to imitate the skill again.

I was still fuming when I biked to the spot Sammie and I had decided upon in our conversation earlier. Why was he having such an effect on me? How could one boy spoil my day so easily?

"I'm sorry," was the first thing that came out of Sammie's mouth when she reached me a few minutes later. She came up and hugged me, not caring if I was in the mood to give one back.

"Sorry for what?" I grumbled. God knows what Sammie was sorry about. She could be referring to a toothbrush she stole from my house in the eighth grade, or the way Jared acted towards me today.

"Ignoring you…not considering your feelings, I'm sure there's a list around here somewhere," she smiled, trying to make a joke out of it.

"Why are you saying this to me now?" I shot back. I wasn't in the mood to be placid Kim. I wasn't in the mood to have this conversation.

She sighed, twirling a piece of her hair. "It's complicated." She licked her chapped lips and tried explaining. "I didn't really get how stupid I've been over the past few years until the other day. You've always been there for me, and when you stopped - I realized that maybe it was me who was messing up…"

I stood there, stunned. I didn't really know what to say. My fickle best friend just admitted she was wrong. Which meant I would have to as well. Which meant we might be able to make this all work out in the end.

"You can say something, Kim," she reassured me. "I'm not going to bite your head off or anything."

I laughed, although somewhat bitterly. It was weird hearing it come from my throat. "I messed up too; it was a two-sided thing."

We moved to the swings. When we were little, we used to live at this rickety old playground, breathing the polluted air of kids and cheap gravel. It was our manna. In our pre-teen years, we used to sneak out of our houses and play games up here, Sammie always the princess and me the ogre. Or Sammie the hero and me the villain. Or Sammie the policeman and me the criminal. Now, as high school students, we came here every so often to chill and drink warm soda under the trees. It was one way for us to get away from life.

"Sammie, why does it smell like pot?" I crinkled my nose at the awful smell, groaning. Why did she have to bring her nasty habits to _our _place? Sammie didn't even smoke pot last time I checked. Why was she doing it now?

"It wasn't me," she said defensively. "Some guys use this as a place to exchange shit like that every week. It's not like I can do anything about it."

"You should tell Sam, the security guard," I muttered sarcastically. Just last night my parents were singing about his godlike deeds on the rez. He stopped some meth sales at the rec center, or something along those lines. I didn't really care.

"Maybe," she deadpanned. "I need to tell you something."

"Yeah, sure. What?"

"Don't get mad at me, I'm just letting you know what I saw…" she said, her voice uncertain. This was a new side I'd never seen of her.

"Sammie, spill."

"What do you know about Madison? Like _really _know?" _Sammie hates her, she has divorced parents, she loves art and her mom is into photography, she has a broken heart from a past crush, she has a friend named Jeff who loves her, she drives fast…_

"Enough, why?" I was about to hear some anti-Madison speech, I could just feel it. Sammie was about to dissuade me from hanging out with her just so I could be her "best friend" again, or something along those lines.

"I saw her give some white packets to Blaire and her friends two days ago. White packets full of drugs. And a week ago, I saw them exchanging joints. I didn't want to say anything because I know you guys are getting close, but it has been eating me up, and I didn't know what to do…"

I narrowed my eyes. "Really? You expect me to buy _that_? Why do you care if I want to be friends with her? She has been a better friend than you in our whole friendship. She cares about my opinion, she doesn't make me do things I don't want to do, she - "

"Kim," Sammie snapped. "I get you are in love with her, but did you hear _anything _I just said? She. Is. Giving. Blaire. Drugs. Quit being so self-absorbed, and try to help your sister."

"You're lying," I told her, my nostrils flaring. "Madison doesn't do stuff like that, she doesn't even really drink. She would never give out drugs to Blaire. I trust her."

"Well, trust _me_ for once. I'm really sorry for making you stuff you didn't want to do, I didn't realize you were so pent up about it. If you had told me before, I would've stopped." She paused for a second, regaining her breath. "But really, just ask Madison okay? And if she lies, watch her. You don't have to forgive me, but I _do _care about you…I don't want you to get hurt again. Jared's shit did me in today, and I really want to go punch him right now for doing that to you…and for what he did at the party. You don't deserve that, Kim."

My head hurt. My brain was filled up with absolute nonsense, and I didn't know what to believe anymore. I was angry and depressed. And now Sammie was making me chose between her and Madison. She didn't mean to, but she has accomplished her goal of destroying my hopes of a friendship bond between Madison and me. At least until I got everything cleared up. Blaire had been acting strange lately and she and Madison knew each other somehow…but that didn't mean my friend was a drug dealer. I would know if she'd been doing stuff like that, right? I was one of the only people who hung out with her.

Complications, complications.

Sammie's arms fell to her sides, and her shoulder sagged. She was done with her argument; she had given me her warning. She had given me her apology. Nothing more could be done about the situation. It was up to me to decide what to do from here.

"Thanks Sammie," I said. She was being considerate. I couldn't figure out if she was truly genuine about the whole affair or not, but I was determined to find out.

* * *

_**Wednesday**_

_I've been avoiding both of them. Madison is confused and hurt while Sammie wants to know why I don't trust her. Blaire is acting suspicious as usual, sneaking out all the time, not giving me any clue as to where she is going. *rolls eyes* I don't know what to believe. I don't know who to believe. I guess the first step to this whole mess is to get Madison's side of things. I'm scared though. Kind of like how I'm scared of Jared. I hate him, but at the same time, it's obvious he is not a force to be reckoned with. Neither is Paul. They act like thugs in the hallways; everyone doesn't want to be in their way. The peanut gallery (Jacob, Embry, Quil) hate them. Jared and Paul stare at them weirdly, so I don't blame them. It's like those two are waiting for something to happen…_

Flipping my notebook shut, I leaned back on the tree and tried soaking up some UV rays. La Push boasted sun for the first time in days, and I was definitely not going to pass it up. Students littered the grassy hill, lunches and books spread out around them. Only idiots stayed inside the cafeteria today. I closed my eyes, enjoying the reddish glow that danced on my eyelids.

Peace at last.

A shadow suddenly stood before me, blocking out my sun. I rubbed my eyes and glared at the thief.

It was Paul.

"You need to move," he said stonily. Knots formed in my stomach. Fight or flight?

For once in my life, I was choosing fight.

"There are plenty of other trees for you to sit at, Paul," I informed him, attempting to be rational. He seemed taken back at the sound of his name, but still refused to move.

"This is _my _tree."

His tree? Really? How kindergarten could he get? "Look, you can sit somewhere else for _one day_. It isn't going to kill you. And anyway, the school owns these trees, not you."

Paul stared angrily at me, shaking slightly. "Quit being stupid and go somewhere else. You don't get it. You need to _leave_. You aren't welcome here."

"According to who?" I snapped. "Why the hell do you care about this damn tree so much? It wasn't like I was bugging you or anything." I inwardly groaned and cursed myself for swearing aloud and giving away my emotions. Why was I doing this to myself? Why didn't I just move and be done with it?

I was sick of giving guys like him the satisfaction. I was sick of getting beaten down by them.

"Dude, Paul, calm down." Jared sauntered up all high and mighty, putting a hand on Paul's shoulder. Since when did they become friends? Paul shook it off and continued to give me the look of the devil. My hands shook slightly, especially since his tall form towered over me, making me feel like an insect about to be squashed.

Jared frowned and turned to see what was making his friend so mad. I met him with a glare equivalent to Paul's. Anger and hatred coursed through me as I stared at the lone boy who had made my last few months miserable. What did I ever see in him?

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

I made a run for it. Paul was literally about to burst, and I had better things to do than to get ripped apart because of a tree. One thug I could handle, but two was a crowd.

Thanks to Jared, I was choosing flight. Again.

Did I mention that I loathed him?

* * *

**What did you guys think? I'm sorry that I'm so rusty. All spelling/grammar errors are my own. Anyone going to see the Eclipse movie? I'm going at midnight with some friends…should be interesting. More corniness and bad scripts for me :D No promises on updates, though this wasn't **_**nearly **_**as painful as I thought it would be (BTBW will….), so I swear it won't be a year till the next chapter. **


	8. Detention

**I'm slightly still in shock at all the feedback I've gotten…thank you guys. Didn't realize how many people liked MOAC. That's ignorance for you. *hits self on head* Anyway, I tried to get this out as soon as I could. I hope it's decent. (Heads up, drugs are mentioned in this chapter. Research courtesy of Google. )**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

_Memoirs of a Crazy_

Chapter Eight:

Lifting my head off the desk, I looked at the computer screen. It was three in the morning. I swallowed the bad taste in my mouth and groaned. Of course when I sneak into my dad's study like a ninja, I fall asleep promptly on the keyboard. How typical. How Kim-like.

At least I didn't get caught.

The revelation made me feel giddy. Pushing back a strand of my hair, I focused back onto my research. Drugs. I had no idea of what was what, and like a typical nerd, had to learn more about them.

_Commonly used drugs for teens are marijuana, prescription drugs, ecstasy, inhalants, cocaine, and heroin. _

But which one was being given to my sister? It was white and that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge. I yawned, slumping in my seat. I was way out of my league. I didn't take any of this stuff, so I was pretty much as clueless as a newborn.

"_I __saw her give some white packets to Blaire and her friends two days ago. White packets full of drugs. And a week ago, I saw them exchanging joints." _The sentence had been haunting me all day. Even more than the collision with Paul and Jared. I needed to confront Madison about it. I had to stop this as soon as possible. Blaire didn't need to be any more messed up.

Making a new tab, I typed in a different search engine. By the end of this (if I managed to stay awake), I would be Kim, drug expert extraordinaire. The girl who knows everything about drugs yet isn't a user. If I weren't so tired, I'd grin at the irony.

After thirty minutes, I managed to make a chart of the three main ones.

**_Marijuana_**_: (__pot, weed, grass, blunts, chronic, reefer, herb, ganja) causes abrupt mood swings, paranoia and hallucinations, can be very addictive, used to handle stress/deal with life_

**_Cocaine: _**_(__coke, snow, blow, nose candy, white, big C) gives user quick, intense feeling of power/energy, elevates heart and breathing rate, can cause fatal heart attacks, very addictive_

**_Heroin: _**_(__horse, smack, Big H, junk): gives a quick euphoric feeling followed by sleepiness, nausea, cramps, and vomiting, users take more to feel good again, hurts body and causes scars, breathing problems, collapsed veins, very addictive and easy to overdose on_

Some of the names were ridiculous. I tried to imagining myself saying them and failed. I was never really into that scene. I printed the sheet out and deleted all history off my dad's computer. If he knew what I had been looking at, I'm sure he would be less than pleased. Maybe it would open his eyes a bit though. Maybe he would see that he really needed to give his daughters some attention.

Maybe…but I wasn't going to risk it. I had already hacked his computer with my uber technology skills (okay, lies, it isn't password protected). However, I didn't have the urge to get myself grounded for the rest of my life. Or worse, become the family's official housekeeper. My foul mood this afternoon only worsened when my mother came home early to monitor my cleaning skills. Usually I move a few things around and call it quits because she's not there to prove otherwise, but of course, the one day I _don't _need to be reprimanded, she magically appears.

Parents.

It's like they have a hidden monitor in their heads that they only choose to listen to when their kids' lives are utterly miserable.

A chair scraped from behind me, and I jolted. Oh god, this better not be one of those times. I turned slowly, my eyes widening. Blaire was pulling herself through the window, one leg awkwardly dangling on each side.

"Damn," she muttered, wincing. She pushed up on the windowsill and lost her balance, landing butt first in the study. Curses came out of her mouth as she straightened out. Her deep laborious breaths filled the room; she stank of alcohol. It wasn't until a few seconds later when she realized that she wasn't the only living person in the room.

"Kim!" She hissed. "What're - Why are you - ugh, go away!" She eyed the piece of paper in my hand and squinted, trying to read it.

"Excuse me?" I replied tartly. "Where were you?"

"Nowhere," she said. "Friend's house." She took a step closer and snatched the printout out of my hand. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of what she saw. "Why are you researching drugs at four in the morning?"

"Why are you coming home at four the morning?" I shot back. Even wasted, she could hold a lucid conversation. It wasn't fair. I could barely say words (and remember them later) when I was drunk. I frowned. Her smeared makeup and messy hair made me assume she was at a party, but what if she was at a boy's house? Blaire was a freshman; she shouldn't get into stuff like that so young. Then again, who was I? Her parent? Nope, both of hers were too out of commission to care about her well-being.

A fact that wasn't fair to the either of us.

Blaire didn't respond. She was looking at the paper intently, her forehead creasing with lines. "Kim, you don't need any of this stuff," she said seriously, looking at me with the strangest expression. "It's not…good."

"Well aren't you preaching to the choir," I snapped, slightly weirded out by little sister's erratic behavior. "I'm not interested in that stuff. What I am interested in is why _you _would be." It's not like she didn't have the means to. Thanks to having two lawyers in the family, we weren't exactly poor per say. Mom and Dad rarely did pro bono work. Unfortunately, they also rarely allowed us to enjoy their wealth.

No car for me any time soon. Blah.

Blaire took a step back, her eyes widening. "I'm - I'm not." She then straightened out and put her hands on her hips, giving me her typical pouty look. "Why the hell would I do that? Like I said, it's _bad _for you," she mocked.

There's the girl I know and love. (Insert eye roll here.)

I shrugged. "You're the one coming home this late."

Blaire laughed. "I'm being a teenager, _Mom_. It's what we do. Try it sometime."

"You'd be surprised," I huffed, stealing back the printed out sheet from her dangling hand. "Now go shower before anyone wakes up and smells you."

If looks could kill, I'd be one dead Kim. I smirked all the way to my bedroom.

Now it was Kim: (10) Blaire: (9).

* * *

"Kim! Kim!" Madison's voice yelled at me. I ignored her and kept walking. I didn't want to deal with this right now. Later. It was hard enough eating lunch without blurting out my mind to her…

Unfortunately for me, we don't always get to choose the when and where of things.

Her pale hand clutched my shoulder, jerking me to a stop. Blue eyes pervaded my vision as I tried to look away.

"Kim, what did I do wrong? Why are you ignoring me?" Hurt colored her words as she stared at me, waiting. I bit my lip and took a deep breath.

"Can we talk after school? I don't care where…just not here." I paused, glancing around us. Students chatted and passed by, but no one stopped to eavesdrop.

"Concerning…" Her voice trailed off. When I didn't answer immediately, she pursed her lips. "Look Kim, you can't expect me to agree to _that_ after ignoring me for three days. For all I know, you could be on your deathbed. Or –- "

"Blaire. I want to talk to you about Blaire and drugs." Madison's expression went to confusion to understanding to … blank? If only I was able to read minds. If I could, I would know if Sammie was lying through her teeth to get under my skin, or if Madison really was doing illegal trade with my baby sister.

"Got it," she said, her face solemn. "Well, I guess I'll see you in class then?" She didn't even wait for a response. She left me standing alone in the hallway with my mouth hanging open like a codfish at her abrupt departure.

Sammie better be right.

I trudged off to my next class, worrying about Madison, my sister, Sammie, and most of all, my health homework. Did I even do it? My eyelids were barely open from lack of sleep. I had tried sipping coffee before I left for school, but it was too bitter and I was out of my delicious tasting creamer - French vanilla. I mentally went through my day yesterday, and concluded that I _hadn't_ written my paper over a mental disorder.

I never forgot to do my homework.

Shoot. What would the teacher do? Would she send me to the principal's? Would she give me detention? I never had to worry about things like this. Maybe she would give me some grace period since I was usually a decent student. I didn't really know Mrs. Taylor's ways - I usually was daydreaming during her lectures. Ugh, I needed a game plan of some sort.

"Have you talked to her about it yet?" Sammie came up to me right when I was about to enter the room. By "her," I'm guessing she was referring to Madison. I shook my head, literally about to have a panic attack.

"Jeez, what's wrong? Whatever it is will give you a coronary." She shook her purple raincoat off and put it on a hook.

"I forgot to do my homework," I whispered under my breath. "What should I do?" I shivered from a blast of cold air as I walked under the vents (the school must've decided fall temperatures of 50 degrees meant air conditioning). Sammie giggled and twisted a strand of her black hair.

"You are so cute sometimes, you know? It's fine. Everyone helps each other out." She assumed I would catch her meaning, but I was sort of clueless. Did she mean cheating? I never usually cheated unless you counted using the wrong search engines on research papers and translating my Spanish homework last year with a processor.

"So what should I do?" I repeated, hoping she'd give me a more definite answer. We were nearing my seat at the front of the classroom, and I was on the verge of _really _freaking out. Luckily the teacher wasn't here yet, so I had a few more minutes before my doom.

Sammie rolled her eyes and plopped her backpack on an empty desk. "I have copies. I forgot to do mine too, so I got two copies from this kid in a different period. I was going to pawn one of them off, but you are a friend in need, and I owe you." She rummaged through her stuff and emerged with a handwritten paper over the obsessive-compulsive disorder.

"Since when do you cheat?" I said, my hand reaching out to get it.

She shrugged. "Since somebody showed me there's a profit out of it. I need the cash, and I have my connections. May as well make good use of them _and _get out of doing the work."

She was becoming more A-lister every day. We both may have made mistakes in our friendship, but she was definitely profiting from our separation more than me right now. _It's our personalities_, I decided. _She has the drive. _

"Won't Taylor know that that's not my handwriting?" I pointed out.

"Say your hand was cramping, I dunno," she huffed. "Look, do you want it or not? I can still sell it if you don't take it."

I debated with myself. My hand was still hovering to grab the paper. It was convenient, but wrong. Just as I was about to retract it, Mrs. Taylor came up from behind Sammie.

"Kim, is that your paper?" She asked with a fake sweetness.

"Yeah, it is," Sammie said, throwing it at me. She thought she was doing me a favor. I inwardly groaned.

"May you come to my desk, please?" My health teacher said, motioning me toward her paperweight cluttered kingdom. I gulped. I was so in for it. I could tell. Teachers have a special way of torturing you - apparently Mrs. Taylor liked taking the "good cop" approach.

"It's not mine," I said as soon as she took a seat. My ears burned fire red. She gave me a hard stare, jaw muscles jumping as she considered my words.

"Cheating is a serious offense," she began preaching. "Of all the students in my class, you would be at the bottom of the list for this sort of behavior." Mrs. Taylor cocked her head, watching Sammie in the far corner. "So this isn't yours?" She picked up the discriminating evidence and laid it in front of me.

"No." My voice quivered. My knees knocked together from shaking so hard. Sammie was right; I _was _going to have a coronary. My heart was beating way too fast.

Mrs. Taylor sighed and gently patted my hand. "Kim, I'll give you another day on the assignment because I trust you, _but _you're going to have to serve detention later today. These kinds of things aren't acceptable, and although I'm nearly positive you weren't the perpetrator, you did help fuel the…exchange for lack of words."

She was punishing me because I almost took the paper, but she was giving me another day for the assignment? What? It made no sense.

"Thank you," I said. I could point out to her that I actually _wasn't _going to take the paper, but that wouldn't get me anywhere. Also, I was too passive - I didn't want to anger her anymore.

"You know, if you had told me that you forgot the assignment at home, I would have given you another day," she smiled. Of course she had to twist that knife into my back. Why the heck did I ask Sammie for advice? When had I ever done that?

I shook my head at my lack of common sense, and headed to my seat.

Luckily, not many people witnessed my walk of shame. Sammie whispered an apology from the back of the room, Paul leered at me, and a couple of cheerleader wannabes snickered. I settled in my chair, and tucked some of my hair back behind my ear. Class didn't start for a few more minutes, so I grabbed my notebook and started writing.

_**Thursday**_

_I can't believe I got detention. The last detention I got was in the fourth grade when I poked a kid with a compass. He was asking for it, to be honest. And I was a bit more rebellious back then. I can't believe I asked Sammie of all people for help. Why did I freak out so much about missing homework anyway? Half the kids at La Push don't do their homework. Only a few manage to scrape enough A's to even go to college. I guess I was just having another nervous breakdown…like at the beach with Madison when we were burning (or supposed to be burning) my crush stuff. Maybe I have a mental disorder…maybe it was fate that I forgot this assignment…maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something… _

I studied the plaster on the ceiling. I could have a mental disorder, but honestly, why had I gotten so pent up about not having my homework? Come to think about it, how have I never forgotten my homework before? Am I really that much of a perfect student? It's not like I consider myself to be one. I'm like anyone else. I procrastinate, I fail sometimes, I don't always pay attention in class, I fudge details on essays. So what was it? What had sent me over the edge?

Suddenly it clicked. Homework is my order.

_My home life is left to be desired, I can't control my family. But I can control my academics. I never forget homework because it is the only thing (sadly) that reminds me that there is a way out of La Push. I am going to leave it to go to college. There really isn't anything here for me besides pretty landscapes and interminable rain. Friends too I guess…but right now, I'm so confused as to who they are. Madison definitely knows something concerning Blaire, and Sammie helped me land a detention a few moments ago…_

I finished up the last sentence feeling full of Kim wisdom.

"Pass up your papers to the front," Mrs. Taylor said, tapping her foot impatiently. She waited until the class handed in a stack of notebook paper, and then began her lecture. "Today we're covering different eating disorders, and how they can affect our body."

I decided the window was much more entertaining.

My attention was snatched from the outside greenery a few minutes later when sweat began tickling my skin. The temperature was now reaching sauna-like heights, and I was beginning to get uncomfortable. A light bulb went off in my head.

Jared. He was here. And I hadn't noticed.

The muscles in his back stuck out, covered only with a thin grey t-shirt. They stiffened at my wandering eyes. I scowled and turned back to watching the rain patter against the dirty glass of the classroom. I didn't care about him anymore. I hoped he got in trouble and was transferred out of the class. Better yet, I hoped he failed.

Oh yes, my imagination was reaching new heights. I snorted at myself.

"Class, I'll be right back. I have to go photocopy some worksheets for homework," Mrs. Taylor thought to inform us as she was inching out of the room. Being in a classroom full of teenagers could make anyone go mad, I didn't blame her.

A piece of paper came flying from the back, hitting Jared on the head. He rubbed the target area, and then snatched the crumpled wad off the ground. Usually, I'm not nosy, but I was bored, had detention later, and Jared was on my current hit list.

I leaned slightly to the right, trying to make out the messy scrawl.

_Your girlfriend has detention. _

I thought he broke up with Annie a few weeks ago? She has been really down about it too. She started crying during history the other day when Mr. Boyd started talking about forbidden love. She also went on a health kick starring lentils for every meal. Did they get back together? The more I thought about it, the more implausible it seemed. No, he probably just decided to take back a Jess, Becca, or one of his other week long girlfriends.

Revolting.

_I hate, abhor, loathe, scorn, spite, dislike, can't stand, shudder at, despise, execrate, detest, deplore, ridicule, abominate, disdain, and spit upon Jared._

_

* * *

_

"Did you hear what happened?"

"Hell yeah, did you see it?"

"I cannot believe he did that."

"So incredibly hot."

I slammed my locker door shut. People kept talking about this incredible thing someone did during the last passing period. I didn't see it, but according to the student body, it was "ballsy."

I always miss out on the good things.

My jean pocket vibrated. Hands full of books, I glared at my cell phone. It peeked out with its ancient old antennae, taunting me. I grumbled complaints under my breath, and threw down my chemistry and geometry textbooks. There, now one hand was free.

_Detention is now in Rm 16. Taylor told me 2 tell u. Sux 4 u. Sry! _Sammie cheerfully let me know. I wanted to put something through a cheese grater, namely my head. It felt like it was going to explode from injustice.

_Thx. _I replied sourly, tapping the keys of my flip phone. Drawing class was awful. Madison and I only spoke when I told her about my detention.

My phone vibrated almost instantly. _Teach goes away during it. Ppl talk. Stupid waste of time. Hve fun. _

Goody. Ah well, maybe I'd draft out my disorder paper. Or possibly try to dissect the drug printout I made earlier. It tortured me from its home of my back pocket, itching to be read. I had narrowed down the white stuff to heroin, but honestly, I didn't trust my judgment. I still had no idea where Blaire was the whole night. Some of her friends were horsing around near the dumpsters at lunch, looking totally high. Their clothes reeked of cigarettes and unwashed skin. It was weird because my sister, their ringleader, was the queen of hygiene, keeping her ugliest moments to a bare minimum.

I didn't understand it all.

I grabbed my books from the tiled ground and stuffed them in my backpack. I felt like I was transporting rocks. A pang of nervousness hit me as I realized that I was headed towards _detention_. I shook it off, and put my big girl face on.

I could do this.

Room sixteen was my homeroom, so it wasn't exactly hard to find. To my surprise, the teacher residing over detention was my geometry teacher, Mr. Thomas. His eyes were practically glued to his computer, an old monitor that looked like it was first generation technology. He glanced at me and nodded, writing something on a piece of paper. I made my way to the third row, determined to make it to one of the freezing cold plastic chairs in one piece.

There wasn't exactly a huge crowd. I noticed that right off the bat.

Other than me, there were two other kids there. One was chewing bubble gum and texting on her phone obnoxiously; the other was jamming to some unknown music on his mp3 player, completely absorbed in the lyrics. My shoulders relaxed. This was okay. I wouldn't have to deal with any pointed fingers and obnoxious questions as to why a goody good academic girl like me was in detention.

Grinning slightly, I took out my cell phone and started playing Tetris.

"Sorry Mr. T, no one told us to go to this room," a boy's voice rang out, disturbing the silence of the classroom. It was Quil Ateara. Of course. He _would _be in detention. I wasn't surprised when Jacob and Embry trailed behind him. Chemistry class with Mrs. Sooner and that trio combined was always interesting. "I think there are some others coming too," he added before arguing with his friends about where they would sit.

Shrugging, I went back to my intense game of shapes.

"Are you a virgin?" A finger snapped in front of my face. I jerked my attention away from the small cracked screen and stared at Quil.

"Am I a _what?_" I croaked.

"A virgin," he said, smiling. I gave him a blank look. What kind of idiot asks _that _in detention to a random girl? He rolled his eyes. "You know, a _detention _virgin. Jeez, what did you think I meant?"

"The obvious," Embry piped in. They surrounded my lone desk like sharks baiting a fish. They were even bigger than the last time I saw them, Embry and Jacob especially. Maybe they were in league with Paul and Jared…

Jacob hit Quil's shoulder. "Sorry Kim, he is a shitty conversation starter. Why _are _you in detention though?" Jacob remembered my name. It sort of made me happy. I felt less forgettable.

"We're bored," Embry explained. "Apparently screamo dude over there is in here for uploading some virus deal on all the computers, and blondie got in a bitch fight with one of her amigas."

"Umm," I fumbled, not really sure how to explain my predicament. "My teacher said I helped fuel an underground cheating ring? I forgot to write up a health paper today."

"Ah," Quil said. "That one. Yeah, I bought a chemistry lab off someone last week. Congrats on the initiation." He clapped my back, and swung himself up onto a nearby desk. Embry and Jacob cracked up and managed to give me their condolences.

I felt a tiny bit better. These guys weren't too bad, and I could stand spending a detention with them. Granted, it wasn't like they were mute, but whatever. They debated for five minutes about the hotness of some American Idol judge, and then included me in their teasing of Jacob and his love for this Forks girl, Bella.

It wasn't until half past four when they fell dead silent. Footsteps echoed in the hall, and two giants stepped in the doorway - Paul and Jared - sophomore and junior.

"Principal's office," Paul told Mr. Thomas rudely, not really caring what my balding geometry teacher had to say about their brusque arrival. Jared nodded slightly, his eyes travelling across the classroom as if searching for something.

They landed on our little group. He shoved Paul a bit, and the two started towards us.

"I hate those guys," Jacob whispered to me. "They think they're so cool. They follow Sam Uley like puppies."

"Yes, a fellow hater," I grinned. "Sam makes my skin crawl."

He fist bumped me. "Welcome to the club."

An animalistic growl met my ears. Paul was gritting his teeth, eyes blazing at the trio. Jared held him back, but just barely. They advanced, joining the clutter of desks surrounding the four of us.

"Watch it, Black," Paul hissed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Talk about volatile. I shrunk under his menacing stare as he bore down on us.

Jacob laughed, his own temper skyrocketing. "Did _Sam _tell you to say that? Aren't you just a loyal disciple." He tutted. "Poor you, no mind of your own. You know what, you can tell Sam to suck it."

I didn't even have time to process his words before a blur struck out at Jacob. It was like Paul was _waiting_ for an opportunity to attack him. Almost like he was waiting for an excuse to get Jake mad…

Mammoth hands suddenly engulfed me and lifted me out of my chair, dragging me away from the fist fight. Shocked, I watched as Embry and Quil joined in. What the heck was going on? I shifted, realizing with a jolt that my back was against a hot and sweaty body. A _big _hot and sweaty body.

And this is a brilliant example of a time when swearing seems appropriate. _Holy friggin' hell, why was Jared holding me? _

"C'mon," he said quietly. "Let's get away. They're not gonna stop anytime soon. Paul's out for murder. He knows what he's doing."

He was right. Paul's movement was feral. The trio was now resorting to classroom furniture to gain an advantage. I winced as my desk was used as a head banging weapon.

Where was Mr. Thomas? His empty chair taunted me as I tried conjuring him with my super cool mind powers. Fail. "Blondie" and "Screamo dude" had ditched as well. Good, that meant I was free to go - sort of. I had an order of business to take care of first.

"Get off of me," I snapped at Jared. This was such a sick joke. He was trying to be a knight in shining armor _now_? Well, too late. That ship had sailed, that train had left the station. He had proven what a jerk he was to me already. I wasn't going anywhere with him.

Ever.

Surprised, he let me go, morose eyes meeting my plain brown ones from underneath those dark brows.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I searched for my backpack, hoping that it hadn't been trampled to smithereens in the current battle raging in the middle of the room. Jared wordlessly held it out, my phone neatly tucked in a side pocket.

"Look, I'm sorry if Paul and his damn temper scared you - ," he started.

"Oh he didn't," I retorted. "I just really don't like you." Oh Lord, did I _really _say that? Did those words actually come out of my mouth? That wasn't me - I don't say things like that.

I didn't regret it though. It _was _the truth, however, I wish my mouth hadn't been so loose. Jared's expression was nearly at the point of pitiful. Angst lined his face, and his eyes, those stupid delectable chocolate eyes of his, held so many emotions that I was getting whiplash.

The moment shattered.

My head ducked as a chair came whipping towards me. You would think that three overgrown boys would triumph over one steroid-taking man child pretty quickly. Apparently one should never assume. Jared caught the thing by one of its stubby metal legs, and threw it down.

I gulped.

Now would be a good time to make my dramatic exit before I got creamed and made into a Kim kabob. I started making my way across the war zone.

Jared reached out his hand in attempts to grab me. "Wait - " He choked off, realizing he didn't know my name.

I have been in his class since the elementary, I have had a crush on him for a majority of the time I've known him, I have sat behind him in health for weeks already, and he _still _refuses to learn my name?

What a jerk. Disgusted, I whirled around, heading for the door. I had no interest in hearing what he had to say.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until a hard something hit my head when it occurred to me that he had been trying to tell me to watch out.

Blood tasting like rust and salt trickled into my mouth while dots lined my vision. I stumbled, trying to remain conscious, but it was a fruitless effort.

I quickly succumbed to the darkness, falling into a basket of warmth.

* * *

**So…*cough* what did you think? What's your opinion on Kim's reaction to Jared? Vice-versa? This was so much longer than I intended. I feel brain dead from staring at my computer for so long. All mistakes are my own. Press the pretty button and review? *puppy eyes***


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